All the Dreams that Might Have Been
by Francienyc
Summary: If Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace had returned to Narnia on the Dawn Treader. AU, Lucy x Caspian. Ch 16: Edmund in love! Also the reunion of Caspian and Lucy.
1. The Captain's Bride

_The Captain's Bride_

_(Lucy)_

"Today is the perfect day for a wedding," I murmured, looking out over the water. The waves were a clear ultramarine blue and the sunlight was dancing over them. Graceful, romantic clouds skated across the sky, but the breeze was gentle. I inhaled the familiar salt air and said it aloud again. "Today is the perfect day for a wedding."

"Your Highness? It's time to get dressed," Sillan said softly. I love the way she talks. She has an old voice, but it is quiet and whispery, and every time I hear her I think of her willow tree beside a still pond in a meadow.

I turned away from the balcony. "Yes, of course."

All of my ladies in waiting were assembled in the chamber ready to pay a thousand little attentions to my dress. It was all a little much, but I didn't have the heart to tell them; they all looked so eager. I came inside and slipped off my robe so they could lace me into my dress. I examined it in the mirror as the ladies worked. "I can't believe they were able to recreate this dress," I said, smoothing the sides. "It's so perfect, even down to the embroidery. And this one was my favorite."

Sillan flounced the skirt of the overdress, showing the gold and blue embroidery of the underlay. "I remember when I was still a sapling and they took me to the palace to watch you dress all those years ago, and you made sure to put some flowers behind my ear. I never forgot that. I thought you were so beautiful, the queen with the golden hair."

People so rarely called me beautiful I didn't know how to accept the compliment. "Oh, but the real event was watching Susan dress. I love to see that, the way they would comb her long dark hair and robe her in the most delicate silks. She was truly beautiful," I demurred.

They finished with the dress, and I sat down so they could do my hair. The new Narnian styles were very complicated, and when I tried one it didn't look good on me at all. I wore my hair in the old way, simply and dressed with flowers. I didn't look a bit stylish, but I wasn't about to go around making a prat of myself. Edmund also reminded me that we never cared about being stylish when we were kings and queens before and we shouldn't start now. I agreed, and I watched now as Sillan herself made the little plaits starting at my temples with her long stiff fingers.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. It seemed that any second Susan would come up behind me to correct the hairdressers and assure me that I looked very pretty and suggest I rub flower petals under my ears to get the scent on my skin. Those moments when we used to get ready together were my favorites. Susan was so happy and so easy to talk to then, and we used to gossip about the lords who were courting her or laugh about Peter and Edmund. She was never so free and easy any other time, not even when it was just us four, and I liked knowing a Susan no one else did.

"It seems to me Lord Drinian will be very happy. Lady Dara is a lovely girl," Sillan said, pulling me from all the ghosts I was hoping to see.

"She is! And Drinian seems to love her so much. I'm so used to seeing him as a captain and a sailor it's almost funny to see him so tender, but he loves her so."

"You look as though you might like something similar for yourself," she said with a knowing smile.

"Maybe someday," I said evasively. After all, I was still only sixteen. This was hardly the time to think about getting married.

Edmund had been waiting outside my door. He looked so noble and so handsome in his state clothes that I was quite proud of him. "You look wonderful, Ed," I told him.

He coughed, which is his way of saying he's flattered but doesn't want to show it. "I came to see if you were ready to go down," he said.

He was being so proper for some reason I wanted to giggle, but I kept it in and shook my head. "I want to see how Dara's doing first."

"Shall I wait for you?" he asked gravely.

Now I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing. "If you like."

We stared at each other, and he looked so uncomfortably formal that finally I asked "What on earth's up?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. Just—you look very well in that dress."

I wondered why my looking nice seemed to trouble him so much, but in truth I was too flattered to really pay attention. Edmund hardly ever complimented me, so I know that he really meant what he said.

I smiled. "Thank you." I twirled a little for him. "It's like one I used to have long ago. Do you remember?"

He nodded. "I do."

All the old feasts came rushing back to me, and I seized his hands. "Oh, Edmund, this is so exciting!"

Now he laughed. "You act as though you've never been to a feast before."

"Not a wedding feast," I reminded him. "Don't you think it odd that in all the years we were kings and queens we never had one wedding at Cair Paravel?"

He rubbed his chin. "I rather think it lucky." I thought he was talking about Susan, but he was looking at me very sharply.

At that moment Caspian appeared as if from nowhere. "Drinian's a nervous wreck," he grinned, clapping Edmund on the back. "Sweating and stammering all over the place. How's Dara?" He turned to me.

When he fixed his eyes on me I started to blush. I don't know why—Edmund's look was much more scrutinizing. Caspian only had an innocent question in his eyes. "I don't know. I just finished dressing—I'm about to go to her." I felt an urge to run down the hall and hide my red face. I started past them both, but Caspian took my hand. His hand was very warm. I half turned back to him.

"Lucy," he said with a soft smile, "You look lovely."

Now I was blushing furiously, and I barely noticed the pointed look Edmund gave him before I hurried down the hall to where Dara was getting ready.

She turned from the mirror when she saw me behind her. "Goodness, your Majesty! You look as if you've seen a fright! What's happened?"

"Nothing," I answered. Even if it were the time for a talk, I don't know what I would have told her. I took some flowers from an attending dryad and started putting them in her hair. "Caspian just saw Drinian," I offered.

Dara beamed at the thought of him. "How is he?"

I smiled but kept at my work with the flowers. "Nervous."

"He's ridiculous sometimes," she said with a little laugh. I liked that she knew him so well, and that she was so comfortable with him. Susan was always fussing about her beaus, but Dara was sure.

"You're not nervous then."

"No! Just happy. This is going to be so lovely. When we get to Terebinthia I'll show my father how happy I am. Then perhaps he will relent."

"He doesn't approve?" I asked.

"He's a hard man to please." While I listened to her I noticed what an extraordinary color her hair was. Like fire, or the sun setting on the ocean. It was unusual, but so familiar. "When I told him I was leaving to marry a lord of Narnia, he said 'What, you couldn't get the King?' And then of course he had to start in on our family history, that we are a noble and most ancient house, and friends of Narnia since the Golden Age…"

I stopped with a flower midway to her hair. Suddenly I remembered exactly where I had seen hair like that before. "Go on," I whispered.

She covered her face with her hands. "I can't. It's too embarrassing. Especially to say to _you_, a Queen of the Golden Age. My father's too ridiculous sometimes."

"No, Dara," I reassured her. "If we are really to be friends you can't go on thinking of me that way. I'm just a girl. Tell me."

"Okay, but don't think any worse of me. The family legend is that one of our ancestors—Rhiannon—was a courtier of the High King. Ridiculous and impossible, I know."

I spun her around in her chair. "Not so!" I cried. "She was!"

Dara looked puzzled.

"Peter loved her. I think he would have married her had we not stumbled back into our own world. He thinks of her sometimes still. And Dara, your hair! It reminds me exactly of hers. I've never seen red hair like that anywhere else. Are you of her line?" I thought of Rhiannon, so long gone now, and my heart broke for Peter's sake. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to be torn away from someone you love. I shivered at the thought of my narrow escape at the end of the world. I had been so sure Aslan would send us home, and when I thought of the look on Caspian's face, I almost cried for myself.

Dara shook her head. "Our family history says she never married. We are descended from Darby's line."

"Her sister," I murmured. "I remember." So Rhiannon was here in mourning while Peter was pining in England. I tried not to think that those times where Peter stopped whatever he was doing and gazed with a far-off look in his eyes had become less and less frequent. I hated for Peter to pine, but I didn't want him to give up on that love. Yet what was he to do if she was dead a thousand years?

I shook these thoughts from my mind. Today was Dara's wedding day, and she deserved nothing but happiness. "Well, whatever your father may say, know that I think this is a happy marriage."

She laughed and pulled a face. "Can you come to Terebinthia and tell my father that?"

"You don't need me. If you love Drinian, he will be pleased to see you happy. And your father will be better pleased when he learns of Drinian's place of honor in the Narnian court," I teased.

Dara was wonderful because she knew how to laugh. "I know, but when I could have had Caspian or Edmund! Ah well, I suppose I'll have to make do with my captain." And her mouth was so full of merriment and her eyes were so full of love that I laughed brightly.

"Yes," I agreed, "I suppose you will." And we both started laughing.

Soon I was finished with the flowers, and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations," I told her, and I left to go downstairs.

Edmund was still waiting, and now Eustace had joined him. Whenever I saw Eustace dressed up in Narnian clothes I wanted to hug him. He looked so cute and uncertain, but I knew he wanted very much to be taken seriously as Edmund and Caspian are, so I stopped myself. Edmund raised his eyebrows in query to me.

"She's so happy," I reported. "This is going to be a wonderful wedding."

Eustace smiled. "Maybe we'll all get to be this lucky."

"Yes, well, not right now at any rate. Let's go—Caspian's already downstairs and they're waiting with the pennants," Edmund said rather shortly. He led the way to the Great Hall, and Eustace and I exchanged a glance before following.

Caspian was talking to Drinian outside the hall doors when we approached. Drinian was nodding and wiping his hands on his tunic. I trotted forward to him. "Drinian you mustn't be so nervous," I told him. "I've just been with Dara; you are going to make each other so happy."

"She's not worried about her parents?" he asked.

"I don't think she's worried about anything right now. She's too happy. And you should be also."

"Exactly what I was saying!" Caspian cried. "You see, Drinian? How can you refuse your King and a Lady?"

Drinian smiled, even if he still looked a little pale. "I cannot."

"Good! Then go in there and get married!" Caspian gave Drinian a playful push through the doors, and as he walked in we could hear the crowd applauding.

Now the standard bearers approached and we assembled ourselves. Caspian would lead as king, coming behind his coat of arms, then Edmund and I would follow together, and Eustace would come last of all. Eustace did not have a pennant, and he didn't wear a gold circlet like Edmund and I, and he didn't sit on one of the thrones. I often wondered if he didn't feel bad. Edmund said though that not everyone could be king, and we can't make people leaders of a nation just because we feel bad for them. He was right, I suppose, but I still couldn't help feeling sorry that Eustace was so left out.

Edmund was admiring the standards. "How they remembered all of this for so long, I don't know," he said.

Dara arrived, and I gave her a wave, which she returned after peeking out from behind her veil. Some of the ladies attending her looked scandalized at such informality, but I only grinned.

Then the doors opened and we followed Caspian into the Great Hall. They hadn't just remembered our old arms, they rebuilt every detail of Cair Paravel to exactly what it was before. Caspian showed it to us with pride the very first night we returned to Narnia, and Edmund and I marveled at it. You would never know we had a camp-out in the ruins of that very room three years before. In that moment, with the trumpets blaring and the crowd cheering, I remembered the moment we realized we were back at the castle, and I found myself missing Peter.

"He would have loved this," Edmund said quietly beside me, and I knew he was thinking of Peter too.

The wedding was beautiful. Drinian looked almost shy, but Dara smiled the whole time and her vows rang clearly throughout the hall. While she was talking, Caspian caught my eye and I smiled at him. If we hadn't been separated by the bride and groom, I would have taken his hand.

After the ceremony was the feast, and then the satyrs and the fauns came out and we all began to dance. I danced with Edmund, as I always did from back in the days before. I loved to dance with him because we knew each other's timing so perfectly, and because he didn't try to control my every step. Some of the other Narnian lords, the ones everyone said were such good dancers, twisted and turned me so much I didn't know where my own feet are anymore. I would have rather danced with Edmund, who knew when to set me free to twirl across the floor.

A lot of the Narnian ladies looked down on this, especially the ones who hoped Edmund would dance with their daughters. They didn't think it was a bit the thing to dance with your brother because dances were supposed to be all about courtship. Of course that is very New Narnia, and Caspian tried his hardest to rid the country of those sentiments which echo Miraz. But he'd only been king six years, and there were many traditions that came with the Telmarines and have been around for generations. They cannot all be erased at once.

I was having too much fun dancing to think much about all this, though. As Edmund whirled me around the dance floor in time to an ancient air, I smiled at him slyly. "The girls are all watching you."

He blushed. "Nonsense. They're watching Caspian."

I shrugged. "If you say so." I looked out over the dance floor and saw that lots of people were smiling at the king, but a fair few eyes were fixed on Edmund as well. I knew it was true: the girls thought Edmund handsome, and I was proud of him for this. I also saw that a couple of the younger girls had their hair done up like mine, and that made me smile.

I danced with Eustace, who was a terrible dancer and always trod on my feet, and then with Trumpkin. Then, while Caspian danced with Dara, Drinian bowed before me. "If the King honors my bride with a dance, would the Queen deign to honor me?"

"Of course!" I cried warmly, and I let him lead me into the dance of four and we talked of the End of the World and the beginning of his married life.

I was enjoying the conversation and the dance so much that I quite forgot that halfway through the steps called for us to switch partners, and I found myself in front of Caspian. Suddenly I felt quite breathless and I fell out of step. Caspian didn't miss a beat, though, and in a second his hand was on my waist and he was guiding me through the dance.

I didn't know what to say to him, and I thought that was very odd considering all the secrets we had told each other and all the things we had shared. I did notice that his eyes were a very clear blue and that the King of Narnia had a very handsome smile. I could feel the fabric of his silk cloak under my fingertips, and he held my hand fast.

The dance ended, and I think he was about to ask for another one, but Edmund came up and asked to dance with me again. I couldn't tell my brother no, so I let him whirl me away. It was probably for the best anyway; that dance with Caspian had been oddly disconcerting. Still, I couldn't help but notice that Caspian looked rather disappointed.

When the sun was almost at the horizon, the whole wedding party walked down to the harbor mouth where the honeymoon ship was waiting. Caspian was busy talking with Drinian, and I spoke to Dara. "Are you happy?" I asked.

"So very! The luckiest day of my life was when Drinian's ship put into harbor near my home. This has all been such a lovely dream. Thank you, your Majesty, for all your kindness."

"Dara," I said, slipping my arm through hers, "we were lucky too when you came to us. Say we shall be friends, and call me Lucy."

"Alright…Then Lucy, I hope that you have the chance to be as happy as I am right now." She smiled and nodded towards Drinian and Caspian. I found that for a moment I was admiring Caspian's broad shoulders and his free and easy gait, and I wondered why I should start to notice such a thing.

As Dara and Drinian boarded the ship, I found myself standing next to Caspian. At the top of the gangplank, they stopped and kissed each other. He pulled her close and she rested her hand lightly on his arm. I could tell for that second they felt like they were the only two people in the world.

The ship pulled away, and everyone on the deck cheered. As it glided across the water, glowing now with the reflection of the sunset behind us, I waved and waved until I couldn't see their faces anymore. Slowly the crowd began to filter away, but Caspian stayed by my side and waved farewell with me even when it was just us two in the end. The sun was on our shoulders, and the ship was pushing its way into the twilight. I thought it was a very romantic way to begin a new life, sliding into a soft purple dusk.

"When I get married, I'm going to sail away just like that, only it will be on the Dawn Treader," Caspian murmured.

"I think that would be lovely," I replied. I noticed now that his arm was around my waist. He had probably been holding me like that for some time, but I hadn't realized. Even though I couldn't think of another time when his hand rested on the curve of my hip, it felt natural. I moved a little closer to him and rested my cheek on his shoulder. The pile of the velvet was the wrong way and it scratched a little bit, but pleasantly. All the uneasiness and nervousness I had felt around him during the day started to slip away, and it was like we were stargazing on the deck of the Dawn Treader all over again.

It was a very deep dusk when Drinian and Dara's ship finally reached the mouth of the harbor. As it glided away, a purple shadow sparkling with lanterns, I noticed that another ship passed alongside it, a great galleon, a ship of state. It was coming into the harbor.

"Who can that be?" Caspian wondered, peering at the shape as it came closer. Then we heard the trumpet signal across the water. "Galma!" he exclaimed. "What on earth do they want? They couldn't have come at a worse time—the castle's still a mess from the wedding feast. Blast it all, I shall have to go and get everything in order."

Before I could even reply he was running back towards the castle, his sword clattering at his side. The cheek that had been resting on his shoulder was cold, and I reached up to touch it. After a moment, I turned and started towards the castle myself.

It was now the very last moments of dusk, and everything was tinted purple. The shapes of the plants and trees as I picked my way through the lower gardens were black but very fragrant. Then all at once I stopped. I could feel it; I knew he was there. I closed my eyes and turned around, praying it might be true.

He was there when I opened my eyes, golden and glowing and huge. "Aslan!" I cried, running forward to bury my face in his mane. "I'm so glad to see you! Why are you here?"

"I have come to see you, my child," he said, and this made me even happier.

"I'm so glad," I repeated, because there was nothing else I could say to express how happy I was. "Do you bless Drinian and Dara on their wedding night?"

"I do. And so I will for you, my child, when you are wed."

"Oh, Aslan!" I laughed. "I'm just a girl! I'm not ready to get married at all."

He looked at me very seriously. "The time may be nearer at hand than you think, and you should prepare yourself for it. The man you marry will need a woman of great faith and courage to stand by his side."

"Do you mean you know who I'll marry?" I asked, and I found my heart was beating too fast.

He shook his head, and he almost looked merry. "Nay. That is as much as I know. Only you can decide who you shall spend your years with, so you must choose wisely."

My mouth was very dry. "Is that what you came to tell me?" I asked.

"Not only that. Lucy, Daughter of Eve, I have a mission for you."

I nodded. This I was ready for. It was far easier than talking about marriage to faceless men, because I know what to do when given a quest. I don't know anything about boys, except maybe Edmund and Eustace and Caspian. But they aren't boys in the ordinary sense. "Tell me, Aslan," I said.

"I see that you are readying yourself. That is good," he said, then began to walk the path up to the castle. I walked next to him. "My child, you are important to this land. You helped liberate it from the grasp of the White Witch, and for that reason the Narnians honor you. In this hour you must show great constancy, for Narnia is again under attack. Only this time the enemies are from without and within, and they are not so clearly evil as the White Witch. I charge you with protecting this land."

"But Aslan," I protested, "What am I to do? What tools do I have to protect Narnia?"

"You have your great faith, and you have your love for this land. These are weapons far more powerful than a sword and a shield. Learn to wield them," he answered.

"How, if I don't know who the enemies are? How shall I recognize them?" I asked, but I was talking to the empty night. Aslan had vanished again without a warning, leaving me, as always with a thousand questions. Still, I took comfort from his presence, and the memory of his mane under my fingertips gave me courage. I had reached the castle doors in my walk with Aslan. I pushed them open and went inside.

* * *

_A/N: So here's the beginning. I already feel happier they stayed in Narnia, though I did grow to like Ramandu's Daughter alright. Also, the whole bit about Dara's family line and Rhiannon is taken from Domlando Blonaghan's absolutely fabulous story "Always and Never". If you haven't, read this story. I thought it was so good it was worth a shout-out in my alternate universe! So big props to her for being a great writer as well as being generally awesome. (Incidentally there are other shout-outs I'd like to make, but I figure I've got plenty of chapters in this epic to thank all the other cool people along the way.)_  



	2. Dalliance and Diplomacy

_Dalliance and Diplomacy_

_(Edmund)_

I turned and headed back towards the castle almost as soon as they had drawn up the gangplank on Drinian and Dara's ship. Lucy might have given me a reproving look if she saw, but I really needed some space to think everything through. Besides, she didn't see because she was waving a farewell fervent enough for the both of us. For all of Narnia, really. I knew also that Caspian would be down at the docks as long as she stayed, so I counted on some minutes to myself.

Of course, it always falls that when one wants to be alone they always find themselves in company. Eustace walked with me and he simply would not shut up. He asked a thousand questions about customs, about pennants, about caring for his new sword, and it was all I could do not to turn around and tell him to shut up for once. He's not quite the idiot he once was, but I just can't find it in me to think the constant stream of questions is endearing as Lucy does. Besides, just then I was in a particularly ill humor because everything was turning over in my head.

Finally a satyr came over to show Eustace some new apple in the orchard that they were thinking of calling Susan's Beauty, and I was able to go into the Great Hall alone. Everyone was starting to clean up from the feast, and they were doing so by mixing work with laughter in a way that was truly Narnian. I had never seen anyone in England mix the two so well. Still, I wasn't in the mood to be around people, and I went into the Chamber of Instruments.

Of all the painstaking restorations Caspian had made in the castle, I was most pleased with the Chamber of Instruments. It was the same cool, quiet, circular room I remembered, and all during the day quiet shafts of sunlight streamed through the high windows. Caspian had hung tapestries of each of us on the walls, one under each of the windows. "Like points on a compass," he told me. When I looked at Peter so gleaming in armor and myself in plush velvet robes, I thought it was a bit much, but I couldn't very well tell him to take them down. That would seem ungracious. I just didn't like to be lionized.

Though the chamber itself was restored, many of the instruments were still dusty and broken. I had made it a continual project to work on fixing these things, and realigning the instruments, taking them apart and burnishing the gold, was an excellent way to collect my thoughts.

I had left an orrery half-repaired, so I sat down at the table now and picked up my tools to continue the job. As my fingers moved, my mind started to arrange everything that was spinning around in it.

_Lucy doesn't know. I watched her carefully all through the wedding, and during the ceremony she looked at Caspian with such frankness that I am quite sure she is still a child. She danced with him, though, and there was something about the way she suddenly became nervous…she might be attracted to Caspian. God, maybe she's growing up._ I paused for a moment and rested my forehead in my hand, pushing back my hair. _Come on, Lu. Not yet._

_I keep telling myself that I'm not objecting to Caspian, I'm objecting to Lucy being so young. I know that if he courted her they would end up married. I know she would give her heart away that completely and that easily, particularly to Caspian. But two years from now, when she is eighteen and of age, will I really feel different about him as a suitor? I don't want to have any qualms about him. He's my friend, and very good fun. I can laugh with him more than I ever could with Peter. But he's got that willful streak a mile wide, and he's got a temper. I'd be at him with my sword if I he ever hurt Lucy. I know he wouldn't ever do it on purpose, but he could hurt her so many ways without even knowing it. I couldn't let him._

I sighed and rolled a tiny screw between my thumb and forefinger. Half the time it took me so long to finish a repair because I didn't really work, I just fidgeted while I thought. _Caspian's a lot more fun than Peter, but in the end, that's really the problem. He makes a great friend, but does he have the constancy to be a husband? _I scoffed a little. _Am I so much better than him that I have the right to constantly keep him in check? Maybe I'm a little more patient, but I'm not without flaws._

_That was the thing about Peter. Perhaps he was a little too noble for his own good, but he was solid. I could always depend on him. Narnia could always depend on him. Always, without fail or question. That's the thing about Lucy, too._

_The problem is that I'm standing here for both Peter and myself. He should by rights be here. Of course, if he were Caspian would cede his crown in all likelihood, and that would cause problems. Still though, I rather think Peter would refuse it, a la Antony trying to crown Caesar._

For a minute I was lost in a vision of Julius Caesar in Narnia; Caspian trying to crown Peter, Peter refusing the crown but ultimately accepting, Peter being assassinated by the nobles, Caspian vowing to himself "And Peter's ghost, ranging for revenge with Ate by his side come hot from hell shall cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war."

I shook myself out of these odd thoughts and came back to the matter at hand. _I miss Peter. He was someone to rely in…I didn't feel like I had to be so solid and strong all the time. But that makes me wonder: who did Peter rely on if everyone looked to him?_

I felt a shiver run up my spine, and the gold instrument in front of me suddenly glowed very brightly even though the sun was too low to shine through the windows. It was reflecting something else, and I knew what before I turned around, though I hardly dared to hope.

"Aslan," I said quietly, dropping to one knee.

He came and put his heavy paw on my shoulder. "You are worried, son of Adam."

I sighed and sat down in the chair, looking at him. "Yes."

"You fear for your sister."

"Always."

His eyes were very piercing. "Why?"

I blinked in surprise. It all seemed very obvious to me. "She needs someone to watch over her, sir. She needs protection."

"Does she?" his expression did not change.

I frowned. "Of course! Lucy is so tender-hearted and so trusting, if we don't protect her, she'll be betrayed. She'll get hurt."

"So hurt that she'll never recover?" Aslan asked. I thought about this, but I couldn't come up with an answer before he spoke again. "Lucy is tender-hearted and trusting, as you say, but she is also very strong. Remember that the people did not call her gentle, but valiant. You used to trust in her strength. Why do you no longer look on her as an equal?"

I wanted to deny this immediately, but his gaze was so probing I felt I ought to give the matter some consideration before just blurting out an answer. I thought long and hard. "I want to protect her," I said at last.

"Because you are worried she might be betrayed again?"

I bowed my head in shame. "Yes," I whispered.

"Do not grieve, my son. The fact that you want to protect her from a betrayal such as you have wrought shows how far from that boy you have come. Yet I would have you think on something else. Think of your brother—how did Peter protect you in battle?"

I wanted to say that he rode his horse in front of mine and sent me in the back with the archers, but I realized this was only true at the very beginning. After awhile, Peter learned to trust me, and we fought side by side, back to back. Even in the midst of a battle, I never felt safer than when I was swinging my sword in front of me and I could feel Peter's back against mine and know that he was there. I knew that an expression of understanding had crossed my face, but I saw that Aslan was waiting for me to speak it aloud. "He let me fight for myself. So I should let Lucy fight?"

"You have before. And you must do so again. Do not think that Narnia is safe, Edmund. She is a happy land now, but enemies lurk in shadows. You know how to spot these enemies, but you cannot defeat them without Lucy's strength. She is your most powerful ally. Trust in her. Let her ride beside you, not behind you."

"But even so Aslan, if Narnia is in danger, shouldn't Peter be here? He's been this country's best defender," I said. Inside I had that squirming feeling which was so old and so unpleasant.

"Peter is the High King, but he may not return bodily to Narnia. Even so, he is not truly gone. Think on what made Peter great. Use that for yourself, rely in Lucy, and you will have the power to protect Narnia." He breathed deeply, and the whole room was full of such a heavenly, warm scent that I closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was gone. Aslan always disappears just before I really understand, leaving me to grapple with the conclusion for myself.

Now of course I couldn't think at all, and I was worse off than before. I got up and started to pace the perimeter of room, stopping often to gaze up at the tapestry of Peter or down at his gleaming sword. Then occasionally I would stop in front of Lucy's tapestry, but that didn't help because it just reflected my own confusion. She was depicted as a child, but that light of faith was so bright in her eyes it made her seem the wisest of us all. I was almost glad when Eustace burst in.

"Look sharp!" he said, blustering a little. "Caspian's stomping up to the castle and Galma at the harbor."

"Galma?" I became more attentive. "Why are they here?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, but the castle herald just announced it."

"Hrm." I didn't say anything else to him; I simply strode toward the door and went into the throne room. I knew he would follow: Eustace always does.

The staff had mostly cleared the Great Hall; I only had to give a few more directions. Certainly by the time Caspian burst in looking rather thunderous, I was already sitting on my throne watching the doors.

Caspian did a rather amusing double take when he saw the hall, and his frown melted into somewhat slackjawed surprise. "Galma is on the way…"

"I've heard," I answered blandly.

"The herald announced it," Eustace explained. "Didn't you hear?"

"No. Lucy and I saw the ship coming in." He looked at me. "What do you think they want?"

"Only they themselves can tell us," I answered.

"I suppose," Caspian answered, and he walked pensively to his throne, Peter's old throne. "Edmund, I have an odd feeling about this, and I don't know why. Galma has long been our ally, and the king feasted me with all hospitality. So why worry?"

"I can't answer that, but I can say that you should trust your instincts," I said.

We sat in silence for a moment, and a small foreboding grew in me too. Then the doors opened and it was not Galma, but Lucy, her face alight. She ran the length of the hall to the thrones. "I've seen Aslan!" she cried. She came up to the dais and took my hands. "Edmund, he was here!"

"I know," I said quietly, "I saw him too. What did he say to you?"

She blushed, which I thought was strange, especially because she looked thoughtful immediately after. "I want to talk to you about that," she said rather gravely.

"Me too," I replied.

Before she could answer, the doors opened again, this time with a bang. Lucy scrambled to her seat as the Galmian trumpeter and herald advanced. "Wensted, King of Galma, and his daughter, the Right Royal Princess Renna, salute Caspian, King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands and his royal consorts of the ancient times, King Edmund and Queen Lucy!" he cried in one breath. "Will you grant us an audience?"

"Gladly," Caspian said, and he rose. Lucy and I followed suit. Eustace was already standing.

The Galmian envoy proceeded in, a little heavy in the lace and baubles but rather impressive nonetheless. They had the sense not to come with a huge contingent, just the king and the princess and a couple of lords. The princess was a little pale with a fierce number of freckles, and when I noticed this I had to choke back a laugh. I remembered Caspian talking about the Galmian princess, and how he originally avoided a betrothal because she "squints and has freckles." They made rather a ceremony of coming to the thrones, and reason for the show of state was revealed almost immediately after the King and Caspian exchanged greetings. King Wensted explained himself.

"We have come to Narnia in the hopes of fortifying the alliance that has stood for so long between our two nations. Galma and Narnia have been friends through a long space of history, and I know King Edmund and Queen Lucy can verify this."

Since he looked to me, I said, "Indeed. Only Archenland is an older friend." _Best remind him not to get to cocky,_ I thought.

"It is our hope to become a dearer friend still than Archenland," the King continued. "We know that the King of Narnia is not yet promised to any one lady—" I didn't even have to glance at Caspian to know that he was giving me a pointed look, "and we wish to propose then a union between his royal person and our own daughter, the Princess Renna." At a cue from her father, Renna stepped forward and looked up. For a split second I saw the resentment she came with, but it vanished the second she laid eyes on Caspian. When she took in his tall figure and his good looks, she went from surly to smitten so fast I had to cough to cover a laugh. Now I could feel Lucy looking at me sharply.

The King continued in a proclamatory voice "We stand here to speak for our daughter, but the King of Narnia has no family. Who will speak for him?"

Caspian made to rise from his throne and Lucy drew in her breath, but I checked them both with a movement of my hand. I raised an eyebrow to Galma. "The King of Narnia has every ability to speak for himself," I said.

"In Galma no binding contract of marriage can be made unless relatives speak for both."

I marshaled myself to do some diplomatic fencing. "Yet you have come to Narnia—" I began, but Caspian cut me off.

"Very well. King Edmund will speak for me," he declared. He added to me in an undertone "Anything to shut him up. Deal with him in private chambers tomorrow." I nodded, and Caspian continued. "We can speak of these matters tomorrow. Your voyage must have been long, and your daughter looks as thought she desires rest and comfort after the hardships of travel."

Princess Renna gave Caspian a perfectly insipid smile.

Now Lucy rose. "Come," she said, "I will show you to your room." She was all kindness as always, but there was an odd catch to her voice, as if she were swallowing something. I watched her carefully as she escorted the Princess, but I couldn't detect anything else.

Caspian had Eustace lead the King and his entourage to their quarters, and with all the guests dispatched of I got up to go to my room. There were some new accounts of the fall of Narnia to the Telmarines, and I wanted to peruse these and not think about all the day's complications.

Caspian had other ideas. After he was sure the Galmians were well down the hall, he wheeled on me with a dark brow. "This is all your fault!"

I laughed a little. I couldn't help it. "It's my fault the King of Galma is a pompous ass?"

I knew making a joke was a mistake before I said anything. Caspian grew even angrier. "No! It is your fault that Galma can come here thinking even imagining he has a suit. If you had let me court Lucy, as I have been longing to do these three years—"

"Stop. You know very well where I stand on this," I said gravely.

"Of course!" Caspian was pacing all around the room. Whenever he moves with such agitation his sword clatters at his side. I think he fastens his sword belt loosely so he can hear that sound; it reminds him of his own authority. "Of course! Not until she's of age! And now Galma has come, and my refusal could bring Narnia all kinds of trouble—possibly war—all because you're worried about your sister!"

I looked at him evenly. "I am more than willing to go to war if it ensures Lucy's happiness. Aren't you?"

Caspian deflated a little. "Of course I am. You know that too well."

He went to bed after that, and I went upstairs myself. I had successfully sidestepped the conversation, but how long could we keep debating Lucy? When was the time to let her go? _Certainly not now, with Galma breathing down our backs. Caspian's far too much in earnest to care about diplomatic delicacies._

I opened the windows and the sounds of the sea rushed into the room. I threw myself on the bed and let the breeze wash over me, and everything turned cartwheels in my head until I fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter is specially dedicated to rooty-boots as a big thank you for all the help and all the inspiration for Edmund with her truly awesome story "Forgotten, not Forgiven."_  



	3. Court Manners

_Court Manners_

_(Eustace)_

_25 Sept._ Drinian and Dara married yesterday. I thought it was rather a nice ceremony, but the feast afterwards was a bit too much for me. Since none of Dara's family is here, Lucy had the staff in the kitchens make all Terebinthian food to make her feel at home. I'm only just used to Narnian food (it took such a long time to get used to all the meat!) and I was up half the night trying to digest it all.

I don't know too much about things like that, but it seems to me Drinian and Dara are terribly in love. I wonder what that must be like. I think Lucy is starting to wonder too, from the way she watched the pair of them all afternoon. I tried to ask Edmund about this before we went to bed, but he was very short with me when I brought up the subject. I suppose he's worried about Galma. They showed up last night right after the wedding and proposed that Caspian get married to their princess right then and there. She doesn't seem a bad sort, but C. wouldn't marry anyone at the drop of a hat like that. E. was rather brilliant, though. The King paraded in obviously thinking that he was going to have his daughter engaged before bed time, and E. stopped him short. I don't know how he does that.

Now E. has come to take me to "chambers" to talk to Galma. "I need you there so I don't lose my temper," he explained.

"You don't have a problem with that," I observed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I only make it look like I don't have a problem." He tossed a robe at me. "You'll need your court clothes. Meet me downstairs."

_Later _ This has been a very strange day. Went down to find E looking ready and very kingly. He wears a gold circlet on his head to show that he was king once. C. met us as well and he looked very disturbed. Probably I would be too; I can't imagine what it would be like to have someone pushing you into marriage.

We all sat around the table and waited for Galma. They kept us waiting a long time, I suppose because they wanted to make a show of power. Really, though, none of us were impressed, only bored. Finally the King and his daughter and some duke or another filed in and sat down.

King Wensted looked at us smugly. One day not too long ago I found my diaries from the Dawn Treader, and once when I was mad I called Caspian an odious, stuck-up prig. I was ashamed at the time, since Caspian is nothing of the sort, but this Wensted fellow is. It was obvious he was looking down his nose at C. and E. because they're so young. He smiled in a fatherly sort of way, but patronizing, the way Harold looks at E. Or used to look at him. It's been so long, sometimes I forget about Harold and Alberta altogether.

"As we explained last night, we are here to create an alliance between our two great nations," Wensted said. "Our royal daughter is of marriageable age, and your King is now in the bloom of youth. The match is perfect."

"How can you know?" Caspian burst out. "We hardly even know each other!"

Edmund held up his hand and Caspian was quiet. "I fail to see the advantages a union of marriage would bring that a diplomatic treaty could not," he said.

"A marriage would bind our two nations in eternal friendship," Wensted explained this as if he were talking to a six year old.

"We needed no such treaty with Archenland."

"Of course not, because Narnia and Archenland are linked by blood. The Archenland royal line is descended from the first king and queen of Narnia." He pressed his fingertips together.

"The connections of that bloodline ended more than a thousand years ago when the White Witch took over Narnia," Edmund answered. "Now we are friends solely for friendship's sake."

E was bluffing; relations with Archenland have been rather frosty since they don't trust that Caspian is not just another Telmarine. Caspian was looking uncomfortable, and that was his big mistake. Wensted's sharp, he sees everything.

"But barely friends now. We have heard of the strain between your nations even in Galma. Do you see then, how marriage could provide a lasting, valuable bond?"

E. threw C. a very brief but very sharp glance, which only made C. redder. E. never lost it for a second, though. "You speak continually of the value of this bond, but I fail to see it. Where are the advantages?"

"Where are the advantages? Why, sir, they are practically written out before you! With our help you could beat back the giants on the Northern Frontier forevermore. You could extend your power over the waters and keep a closer watch on the Lone Islands, a wayward attachment to the Narnian crown until very recently."

"We need no help with the giants; they pay us tribute," E. interrupted. I noticed that he speaks very calm and proper when talking to King Wensted. He's so serious I think it impossible that he ever made a joke in his life. "And the Lone Islands are now under the care of a Duke who has pledged lifelong loyalty to King Caspian."

Wensted smiled. Apparently he still had ammunition. "What of Calormen, though? Through all of Narnian history Calormen has scarcely disguised its desire to reach a long arm north and capture both Narnia and Archenland in its grasp. If I am not mistaken, even when your lordship was king Narnia faced invasion. Together Galma and Narnia could make such a show of power as to make Calormen quake."

E. was quiet for a moment, and he rubbed his chin. For a moment, I worried that he was considering Wensted's offer, and I could see on Caspian's face that he was thinking the same thing. I looked across the table, and the princess looked very hopeful. It's obvious that she likes Caspian very much.

Finally E. spoke again. "All of this is very well, but here in Narnia we are unused to selling our sons and daughters into marriage. Leave us. I cannot say anything further until I know the mind of Caspian himself. We will send for you presently."

Wensted went rather purple, but there was a scraping of chairs as all the Galmians got up and filed out. The princess looked over her shoulder at Caspian before following her father.

"They know a lot about our movements and our plans," C whispered.

"Indeed," E. agreed. "I would say he has a spy at court, but then we have not made any effort to conceal our movements. He's just a keen observer." He sighed. "So? What say you?"

"Do you really have to ask?" C. answered significantly.

I couldn't think what he might mean, unless he was still hung up on Lucy.

"Fine," E. agreed. "But we can't rebuff them now—you do realize that."

"No, I suppose not. We can't say yes either, though."

"We won't. We're simply going to use the oldest diplomatic tactic in the book. It was my old back pocket trick when suitors came for Susan."

C. looked skeptical, and I couldn't blame him. "What is it?"

"Stall for time. Say neither yes nor no." E. told the guards to call in the Galmians. When they were sitting down he folded his hands in front of him. "We have carefully deliberated the matter you have put before us," he said.

"And? What is your answer?" Rather rude of the King to interrupt _I _thought, but I didn't say anything. E. seemed to know what he was doing.

"Simply this. We need more time. You may stay on as guests of Narnia, or you may sail for your own country and leave your daughter here. As you will. But Caspian and Renna need the chance to know each other's character before we can say anything definite."

"Do you think I don't know stalling techniques?" Galma said. "We have not sailed all the way to Narnia to be staved off. What is your answer?"

His eyes flashed, but he said quite coolly, "That we can make no answer until they know each other more." I was impressed that he kept a cool head.

King Wensted grew very red, but E's calm demanded that he remain courteous or look the fool. E. had brilliantly backed him into a corner. Even I could see that he had to agree: if he picked up and left in a huff he wouldn't get anything, while he couldn't make any show of force with one ship full of diplomats. "Very well," he growled. "Please allow my daughter to impose on the hospitality of the Narnian court."

Caspian (who was looking very relieved) gave one of his gracious smiles, the one that makes all the girls stare at him. "Lady, you are welcome here," he said.

I knew he didn't mean anything by it except that he was happy not to be engaged, but she turned beet red. Truthfully I felt rather sorry for her. I know what it's like to think you stick out for being so _normal_ among all these kings.

I remember the day we arrived at Cair Paravel on the Dawn Treader. On board the ship, Lucy and Edmund and Caspian could not stop chattering about Narnia, but to me it was just another destination, and I was growing rather tired of their incessant talk of places I had never heard of, like Beaversdam and Beruna and Aslan's How, which Lucy for some reason insisted on calling the Stone Table, only to make me more confused.

Then we pulled in. Even though there had been a crowd to greet the ship in the Lone Islands, it was nothing compared to what waited for us at Cair Paravel. I also got my first look at the castle. The whole time we were on ship people called Caspian king and obeyed what he told them to do, but it never seemed real to me that he was king of a whole _country_, that tens of thousands of subjects obeyed his words. I started to understand when I saw all the people waiting for him there.

If Caspian's kingship didn't seem real to me, Lucy's and Edmund's seemed even less so. To be truthful, I let all the references to "her Majesty" and "his Highness King Edmund" gloss over me on board. After all, my cousins were worse off than I was at home, living in that awful bombed out neighborhood in London. Their parents couldn't even afford to take all of them to America, which is why they were staying with me and how I got to Narnia. Or the Narnian world, to be very exact. Before I was a dragon, back when I was sour, I thought that they were just play acting. Afterwards I didn't even hear the royal addresses anymore.

Caspian went down the gangplank first, and when he reached the bottom, Lucy and Edmund followed. I was close behind, and I could see that as soon as the Narnians in front saw their faces, they whooped for joy and cried out "Three cheers for King Edmund! Three cheers for Queen Lucy!" and every single person in that crowd cheered for my cousins. I couldn't believe it. Then Edmund ran forward to a dwarf who was wearing a lot of velvet and holding a scepter and he wrung the dwarf's hand. And the dwarf asked "But your Majesty," (now I heard the respect he paid Edmund) "Where are the High King and Queen Susan?" I finally understood that they had been speaking the truth that Christmas, that in fact they had _all _been to Narnia.

After we had unloaded the ship and eaten something in a silk pavilion, C. turned to Lucy and Edmund and said "Let me show you the castle." Lucy was so excited she actually clapped her hands.

He led the way through what was pretty much a construction site, except that there were no cranes or bulldozers, and the pair of oxen pulling a giant paving stone were yelling back at the human trying to drive them.

"Gee and haw! What do you think we are, idiots who can't understand speech?" one said. "Say left and right, if that's what you mean!"

"And if you raise that whip, I'll raise my horns," the other threatened.

The driver blanched and stammered "W-well, could you just maybe pull that stone over there?" He jumped down from the cart and pointed.

I realized that while I was watching the others had gotten ahead. I ran to catch up. They were almost at the entrance. "The castle's complete; we're just finishing with the outbuildings, the stables and such. But here we are. Tell me if it's not right," Caspian said as he threw open two great gold doors.

We walked into the most amazing hall I'd ever seen. Harold and Alberta had taken me to see some of the castles in Europe: Buckingham Palace and Versailles and Hampton Court, but this was grander than all of them.

While I was gaping, I heard Edmund breathe "Brilliant!" Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance at Caspian, and the pair of them raced toward the dais. Lucy watched them, and as they neared the dais she breathed "Four thrones! He even erected the four thrones!" As if there were some mystical significance to this.

Edmund was so fast that Caspian just beat him, even though his legs were quite a bit longer. Caspian hurtled himself into the throne at the far left. Edmund tried to pull him up, crying "Get out of my seat! I am one of the four ancient sovereigns of Narnia and you are in my seat!" They were laughing hysterically. I realized I had never laughed like that before.

Finally Caspian got up with a huff. "Fine. I'll just sit in the High King's throne," he said with mock resignation.

"As it should be," Edmund said with a grin.

Caspian looked at the throne behind him, and at Edmund. He turned to look at me and Lucy approaching, and he grew serious. "You must sit with me. Both of you. That is as it should be."

The debate about the thrones lasted a good week after that, but for the moment Lucy and Edmund said nothing. I wondered, though, why Caspian thought Lucy and Edmund should sit with him. Even if Lucy and Edmund were King and Queen long ago, why on earth would Caspian want to sit with them when he was properly and presently King of Narnia?

Before I could figure out how to ask, Caspian led us into a room off the dais. It was full of old tools the likes of which I had never seen before, but which Edmund examined fondly. I didn't take much account of these. What I noticed were the tapestries on the walls. There were four, one each of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. There they were, wearing crowns and looking very noble indeed. Peter was holding a gleaming sword, and to be truthful, back at home I never realized how powerful he looked.

Caspian led me forward. "Let me show you the relics," he said. He showed me in turn Lucy's dagger and Susan's bow and arrows and explained that the cordial and the horn were already in use. Then he showed me Peter's sword and shield, and, strangely, Edmund's electric torch. These were all displayed like holy artifacts, as if they were museum pieces. I had never seen anyone give so much care to a torch. Caspian's eyes lit up as he looked at these things. I had a hard time believing that they even belonged to my cousins. A _sword_? A bow and arrow? How was this possible?

But they were all over the castle. Their four faces looked down from tapestries and paintings. The things they had used were all polished and preserved. Lucy and Edmund began to get a little uncomfortable with the way the castle put them on display, but Caspian said to them, "It's only right. You are the most renowned rulers in Narnian history. This is your castle. These are your people. I thought it only fitting that we honor you, that I honor you, for all you have done."

I saw for the first time what I had been blind to almost the whole trip. Caspian and all of Narnia revered Lucy and Edmund. He looked up to them. And I had been taking them for granted.

_27 Sept._ Stranger and stranger still. King Wensted is gone, but Renna's still here. Last night was the first night that Renna ate with us without Wensted. She hardly talked while her father was here, but she would not shut up once he was gone. Caspian and Lucy tried their hardest to listen to all her stories, but I could see by the time they brought in dessert Edmund had reached the end of his patience.

Still, I felt pretty bad for her. She must not have had an easy time of it, growing up with a father like that. She must have liked the free air of Narnia. She also seemed pretty keen on Caspian; at least, she kept looking at him all through dinner.

Then today he spent most of the day showing her around. I could hear her laughing all through the castle and the gardens. She laughs very loudly. Near sunset I happened upon them together under the apple trees. Renna was looking at Caspian with such eyes that I thought I really should let them alone. I started to retreat, but I'm never quiet when I want to be, and Caspian looked up. He said, "Walk with me for a moment, Eustace? There's something I want to talk to you about."

I didn't mind, but even if I had I would have gone. Caspian could sell ice in the winter if he's in the mood. Of course other times he's got a frightful temper, but I suppose that's how it is with some people. I wouldn't mind being able to charm people sometimes.

C. bid Renna to excuse him, and he led the way through the gardens, but he didn't say anything until we were away from all the castle staff. Then he said in a hushed voice "Edmund must not know of this. He'd be frightfully mad."

I shuddered. Caspian yells and thunders, but Edmund's anger is much more frightening. It's like stars that I learned about—or stars in my old world, I should say. The red giants look impressive and powerful, but they aren't nearly as bright as the white or blue stars which burn millions of degrees hotter and stronger. Edmund has the white anger of a small star. "I won't tell him," I promised.

"Good. Because I need your help."

"With what?"

C. blushed a little. "Well…I suppose you remember that conversation I had with Edmund…you know, when we were waiting for Lucy at Coriakin's house?"

"You mean when you wanted to marry her? You're not still on about that!" I said.

"Shh! Not so loud! I don't want the whole castle to hear." He looked sulky for a second. "Anyway, yes, I'm still 'on about that' as you say. I love her, Eustace."

I shook my head, but I didn't say anything.

C. went on. "You don't just stop loving someone. I knew when we were on the Dawn Treader that I would love Lucy for the rest of my life."

"But how? How could you know? That doesn't make any sense. She was thirteen. It was three years ago." Sometimes C.'s head is too much in the clouds He doesn't think realistically, and that's when I have to do the practical thinking for him.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "When it's love, you know." He let go and started to pace in front of me. "At least, I know about myself. What I don't know is how she feels. And if she doesn't love me, or if she won't, I wonder if perhaps I oughtn't think more seriously about Renna. She doesn't seem a bad sort, even if she does talk a lot. And squint. Did you notice that she squints?"

"Caspian, you're a fool! You're actually buying into all that rot about alliances that Wensted gave us the other day!"

"Nooo. But if Lucy doesn't love me, I need to think about what I'm going to do. I mean, I've been waiting for her for so long. That's why I need you to find out how she feels."

I didn't know what to say. First off, I'm a terrible spy. I can't conceal anything. And then, it seemed wrong to spy on Lucy. She's always so honest. "Are you sure you want that, Caspian?" I asked. "It doesn't seem very fair to Lucy to spy on her."

He was thoughtful. "Perhaps you're right. It's not very courtly. But still…I need to know. Am I holding onto a fool's hope?"

He looked so sad that I said "Well, I won't ask her straight out, but I could watch her. I could tell you what I think."

His whole face lit up with hope. "Could you? I think you've hit on the perfect solution."

"I—well, yes, I suppose."

So now I've agreed to investigate Lucy. What am I getting myself into?

_1 Oct._ Even though C. has been giving me significant looks for several days, I didn't go and talk to Lucy in private until today. I'm not going to spy on my cousin; I'm just going to give Caspian my opinion. And I'm going to do it in my own time.

Of course, when I went I tried to make it seem casual and natural, but things are never casual and natural if you have to make an effort to feel that way. I thought it must be obvious that I was up to _something_, and I'm sure that Edmund would have raised an eyebrow at me, but Lucy didn't say anything or show any suspicions. Rather, she made it so that after a few minutes everything was actually very comfortable and we were making plans to go visit Peepiceek and the other Talking Mice. She's so nice and so gracious, it's no wonder E. and C. feel like they have to protect her all the time. Truthfully, though, I don't really think she needs it as much as they think she does. I get the impression that Lucy could be pretty fierce if she ever needed to be.

Lucy had some tea brought, and we were in the middle of making plans and talking about Reepicheep, when an attendant brought her a package. "This came for you," he explained. "A centaur brought it."

"Oh, excellent!" Lucy cried, springing up. "Is he still here? I would very much like to thank him."

"No, he was in a rush. But he wanted to make sure you got this with his compliments."

Lucy took the package. "Well thank you very much." Then she turned and brought it into the room. I watched curiously, craning my neck to see what she was spreading out on the sofa. She looked over at me and giggled. "Come over and see, Eustace. What are you straining your neck like that for?"

I went over and found myself looking at a series of four paintings, all clearly from our voyage on the Dawn Treader. There was a sunrise on the Silver Sea, and the slopes of Ramandu's Island in the sunset, and a painting of the Eastern sky at night, with all the stars twinkling, and most dramatically, the sun shining down the length of Aslan's Table, lighting up the Knife of Stone.

"Who painted these?" I asked.

"Glenstorm's third son, Brinaeus, consented to paint them for me. He did a wonderful job, don't you think?"

"I'll say! They're as good as photographs. Better—I feel like if we stared at these too long we might get sucked through again. How did he do it? He wasn't with us."

"I sat and had tea with him one afternoon and told him all about our voyage." I wasn't really surprised they were so accurate then, Lucy has this ability to describe something so clearly I feel as if I were there. "Caspian and I had been reminiscing, and I got the idea as I was drifting off to sleep that night. They're of all the places Caspian and I liked best. They're so good I almost hate to give them away," she finished, picking up the sunrise painting.

"Give them away? To who?"

"Why, to Caspian. I had them made for him." She looked at me over the painting's frame very frankly. She bit her lip. "I don't know now, though. Should I give him these paintings? Everyone seems to want him to spend more time with Renna, and if they're to be courting, it might not seem appropriate."

"Lucy, give him these pictures. It would make him happy. I know it would."

She smiled. "I thought so too."

I walked away thinking it was very obvious she was in love, but now I'm not so sure. She does things like commission paintings for Caspian, but the look in her eyes when she talks about him is no different from the look in her eyes when she talks to me. So what does that say? And what am I going to say to Caspian, apart from the fact that girls are impossible?

* * *

_A/N: I thought this would be a short chapter, but apparently Eustace has a lot to say! Some people asked, and I tried to make it clear in the text, but this story does follow "Caspian's Queen" up until the chapter "The Last Sailing of the King and Queen." In other words, the stories branch off when Aslan tells Caspian the Pevensies and Eustace are supposed to leave Narnia._  



	4. Squints and Has Freckles

_Squints, and Has Freckles_

_(Lucy)_

"King Caspian is very handsome, don't you think?" Renna asked me.

I blinked; the question was very sudden. And then, I hadn't really thought about it. I never considered whether my brothers were handsome, though many women said they were. Why should I think of Caspian like that?

Renna seemed to want an answer, so I borrowed Edmund's technique of answering a question with a question. "What makes you say he is?" I asked.

We were watching Edmund and Caspian practice fencing. I always liked watching them at this, for they were both very good and equally matched. Peter beat Edmund almost every time, but when Caspian matched him I never really knew who was going to win. Their swords were flashing and they were both sweating and grinning from ear to ear. When I saw what a good time they were having it made me want to learn swordplay for myself.

Renna shifted a little, and I could tell she was bashful. "Well, he's got a very noble profile. And he's very muscular—you can see how strong he is. Also, his mouth is…" she dropped her voice to a whisper "very sexy." She started to giggle.

I titled my head and tried to consider Caspian from her point of view. I supposed that all of those things were true, but they were not what I noticed about Caspian now that I was looking at him closely. I saw the merry curve his mouth had, and the way his eyes shone. I saw how quick he moved, and how there was a certain grace to him that Peter, for all his strength, never had.

"What do you think is most attractive about Caspian?" she asked confidentially.

I started again. I didn't know if attracted was the right word, especially since I hadn't even thought of him as handsome until that moment. I couldn't tell any of this to Renna, though, so I said "I think his eyes are lovely. They reflect everything he's thinking, and I can tell in a glance whether he's feeling thoughtful or dreamy or happy."

"And they're the most amazing color! The palest green, like…like…the leaves of those trees."

I furrowed my brow. That wasn't what I meant at all, and I didn't think the comparison very good either. If I had to compare the color of Caspian's eyes to something I would choose something brighter and a little more blue, like the clear waters of the last seas. I couldn't blame Renna, though. She had never seen those waters.

Edmund disarmed Caspian with a quick turn of his wrist, and I applauded them both. It had been a splendid match. I noticed that Eustace was clapping too, but he looked rather wistful, as if he would like to join in. I got up and approached the boys, and Renna followed.

"Well done!" I congratulated Edmund.

"What, and you won't say anything to me?" Caspian asked, mopping the sweat off his brow.

"You lost," I teased him, and both he and Edmund laughed.

"Oh, the lady is cruel!" Caspian cried.

Renna laid her hand on his arm. "I thought you fought beautifully."

Edmund shot her such a strange look I had to repress a giggle. "When are you going to teach Eustace to fence?" I asked him.

"Not today!" he said as a raindrop splashed him on the nose.

Everyone ran toward the castle, but I stood under the drops for a minute. It had been windy but humid all morning, and the rain, though cold, was a welcome relief. I didn't start toward the castle until Caspian came and pulled me along. "Lucy, you'll catch cold in this rain. Come on!" We ran back together.

A little while later I was in the parlor reading Dara's letter. It had come with a trade ship from Terebinthia the day before, and it was full of hopes and plans and wishes—for her and for me.

_Lucy, whatever adventures may befall you, I sincerely hope that you can count love among them. I cannot remember ever being happier. Having Drinian's love in my heart has changed everything. I see everything differently. And I feel different, like I can be more myself than I ever was. I feel safe to be me, because I know that Drinian is standing behind me._

I thought about love. I loved many people. I loved Peter and Susan and Edmund. I felt safe around Peter and comfortable around Edmund. I loved Aslan, of course. I loved Narnia. I loved Eustace. I loved the Dawn Treader. I loved Caspian, too. I was growing to love Dara in a way that I had never loved anyone else. I hadn't ever had a best friend. I loved all these people and places with everything I had inside me, but still I couldn't say I had what Dara did. Was I missing something? Did I need that kind of love?

And then, Dara's vision of love was different from what I imagined. Whenever Susan fell for a suitor, she became a shadow of herself. I never saw that love allowed her to stand by herself; it made her more dependent. Worst of all was Rabadash, who wanted to enslave her. But Susan had never met the love of her life. Peter had, and when he was with Rhiannon he worried less and laughed more. He didn't worry so much about exuding his High King persona; he was just Peter. When I thought about Peter, I started to see what Dara was saying.

I leaned my chin on my arms and gazed out the rain-speckled window.

"You look so pensive, Lucy. What are you thinking of?" Caspian asked. His voice didn't startle me, even though I was lost in my thoughts.

For the first time I didn't tell Caspian the truth, and I couldn't think what prompted me to say "Nothing much. I got a letter from Dara."

"Did you? I had one from Drinian."

"What does he say?"

He sat on the sofa I was curled up on, and I turned around to face him. "Nothing much," he said, "Except that he's the happiest man alive."

"Dara's happy too. Look." I showed him the letter.

He read the letter intently, and he bit his lip at one point—I think when he was reading about Dara wishing love for me. He didn't say anything until he was done. Then he looked out the window and said "Do you remember when we'd sit and talk on the Dawn Treader?" he asked, looking out the window.

"We passed the time during the storm talking about love and marriage and telling stories," I said dreamily. His arm was stretched across the back of the couch, and I wanted to curl up next to him and rest my head on his shoulder like I had so many times during that trip. I don't know why I didn't, but something stopped me.

"Do you know, even though that storm was terrible I always liked the rain after that," he said, shifting his gaze from the window to me. He smiled. Caspian had many smiles, and they reflected his mood just as much as his eyes. The one he gave me now was only with his lips, and it was soft, a smile of deep contentment.

I returned his smile with something brighter. I love to see Caspian happy like that. "Me too." I hugged my knees to my chest, and we sat together in silence for a few minutes. Caspian knew that we didn't have to talk all the time to understand each other.

Presently he spoke again. "Narnia is still waiting for me to marry." He gave me a rueful look. "They're getting anxious now; I'm getting old."

I laughed. "Twenty-two is not old, and you know it's not."

"Yes! I'll be a doddering old man! I'll have to use a cane to help climb onto the dais, and I'll need an ear trumpet to listen to the vows." He chuckled, but then his face grew more thoughtful. "I still don't want to marry just for marriage's sake. I think I'd be terribly unhappy."

"Any sensible person would be," I said. "I think you should wait, Caspian. Marry a girl that you love. I would hate to see you miserable."

"I think you're right," he said softly. Then he covered his face and let out a groan. "Ohhh! Lucy, why can't we be back on the Dawn Treader again? I miss it so much. Just the sea and adventure. No diplomacy, no princesses, no worries."

"Speaking of princesses, where is Renna?" I asked him. I just realized that we had been talking alone for quite some time, and that was unusual because since her arrival Renna had become Caspian's second shadow.

"Eustace is showing her the greenhouses. She wanted me to come along, but I…I just needed a minute alone. Is that bad of me?"

He looked so tense and tired I got up and stood behind him to massage his shoulders. Sillan had showed me how, and when she worked her strong fingers into my muscles, I discovered there were knots I didn't know I had. I figured Caspian was the same, and as soon as I began to knead his shoulders I found I was right. "No. How could you be bad, Caspian? You've been so gracious to her ever since she arrived."

"I'm glad you think so. I haven't exactly felt gracious."

All of a sudden, for no real reason, I realized how strong Caspian was. I was mad at myself for borrowing Renna's ideas, but I could feel his muscles under my fingers, taut and sinewy. Even though my fingers were working over the fabric of his clothes, the massage was more intimate than we'd ever been. I didn't know why I was noticing that. After all, Sillan had done it for me. And Caspian and I were so used to holding hands, or onto each other. Resting my head on his shoulder was a reflex. Why then should a massage make a difference? Perhaps it was that I was reaching so deep. I thought I should stop, but to stop so abruptly would seem odd. I tried to think of something to say that would take my mind off of this, something that would keep my worry that Caspian was thinking something similar at bay.

"Do you still think she squints and has freckles?" I teased.

He laughed brightly. "You are hard on me today! That's not fair, using what I said so long ago against me." He sighed. "It's not the freckles so much as she doesn't understand me. It's so much work being with her. I'm always casting about for something to say, and I never have that moment where we know exactly what the other means."

I smiled at the crown of his head as I worked my hands into one particularly tight knot in his right shoulder. Finally it started to loosen, and he breathed, "Lucy, where did you learn to do that? It's exactly what I needed. I didn't even know I was that tight."

The way he spoke made my heart beat a little faster. "Sillan taught me. You seemed so tense, I thought it might help."

"More than you can imagine." He reached up and put his hand over mine. I bit my lip. He turned his neck to look at me. "How do you always know?"

"I—I don't know," I faltered. "I just do."

He turned around so he was on his knees looking up at me. He still held my hands. "Eustace brought me the paintings the other day. They're perfect. The one of the stars…it made me think of that night we named the constellations."

I wanted to reminisce with him. I wanted to talk about that night, and the strange stars that burned in the east, and relive the Silver Sea, but I couldn't. I was distracted by his eyes, they way they glowed so warmly and the way they were so clear and green. I didn't know what to do with myself. He was so close, and yet part of me wanted him closer. Another part wanted to back away. This wasn't how I was supposed to feel about Caspian. I was more comfortable with him than with anyone else, except now that was all getting ruined. I wanted to blame Renna, but I wondered if it was really her fault. Still, she was the one who got me thinking about whether he was handsome.

I was almost glad when I heard Renna and Eustace coming down the hall. I stepped away from Caspian and went to sit in a chair.

I didn't see Caspian alone again for awhile after that. We had the first frost, and Narnia started to prepare for winter. Renna stayed on. She took a liking to talking to me. I suppose she hadn't had anything like a real friend either. The difference was that I may not have had a girl friend, but I always had company. I couldn't say I had ever really been alone, and that was not only the difference between me and Renna, but me and Caspian as well. That also explained why Caspian was so particularly kind to Renna; he understood her loneliness.

Renna talked a lot—"without pausing for breath, she's quite the medical feat," said Edmund. I didn't mind that very much, since I spent a lot of time with Eustace, who was also fond of talking, but all she wanted to talk about was Caspian. This was particularly inconvenient because the thought of Caspian and that rainy day in the parlor had left me feeling very unsettled, and I was scared to understand why.

One day while we were alone after breakfast Renna leaned quite close to me and whispered "Lucy, I must ask you for a favor. Please say you'll help me, it's really quite desperate."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Father told me that Caspian and I shall be married as soon as Edmund consents." When she saw my confused look she explained, "In Galma two young people cannot get married unless their families have made the arrangements and given their consent."

"But that doesn't make any sense! Only you can know your own heart," I protested.

She smiled. "That's just what Caspian said when I brought up this subject with him." That she had spoken of marriage with Caspian gave me a little stab to the heart I didn't understand. "But in Galma it's thought that young people are not wise enough to understand their own hearts. The family acts as a sort of translator. I rather like the tradition. So, the favor."

I nodded, though I wasn't feeling particularly willing to help her with this.

"I need you to talk to Edmund. Encourage him to consent. You're his sister, you must have some power of persuasion."

I couldn't help it; I laughed. "Renna, if you knew Edmund, you'd know that once he's made up his mind no one can persuade him but himself. I have very little sway over him."

"Oh," she said, looking down. "There's no hope then."

She looked so sad I forgot about my own reservations for a moment and went to put my hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't say no hope. I can talk to him, if you like. He might see some sense in changing his mind."

Her face brightened instantly, and I realized that she was actually quite pretty. "Really? That would be so wonderful! I know I should be patient and let the courtship run its course, but I can't help it. I love him so much!"

I watched Renna's face, so aglow and exultant. I wished I could read people like Edmund. Did she love him like Dara loved Drinian? My stomach dropped.

Renna told me herself; she had a nature which conceals nothing. "When I was a girl, my mother always told me stories about knights in shining armor coming to save damsels in distress, and I used to dream of someone like that. Someone handsome, courteous, kind, and strong. Someone who could take me away from my father. He doesn't exist in Galma. I was worried he didn't exist at all until I came here and met Caspian. He is all these things, don't you think? He's a dream come true!"

I touched Dara's letter in my pocket. In her vision of love, Drinian stood behind her to set her free. In Renna's, a man came to sweep her away and hold her close. Which was really the definition of love?

I felt a headache coming on. What did I know about it? Once, a long time ago, Peter and I had our only fight. I had forgiven him almost right away—he was only trying to protect me—but I never forgot what he said. "You're just a girl, Lucy! You want to be worldly and wise, but you're not. Stop pretending you understand things you know nothing about!"

"Are you quite alright?" Renna asked. "You look like you're about to faint."

I shook my head and forced a smile. "I'm fine. I was just thinking—would you like me to go and speak to Edmund now?"

"Oh _could_ you?" Her eyes glowed with anticipation. "If this works…how I have dreamed of kissing Caspian! He would sweep me into his arms—have you seen how muscular they are?—and—"

"I'll just go and talk to Edmund, then," I said hurriedly. I know it was terribly rude of me to interrupt her, but I couldn't listen to her talk about Caspian like that. As if she knew him.

I went to Edmund's study, a lovely calm room filled with books and scrolls and smelling of ink. He was pouring over a large volume, his head bent close to the book and his hair falling in his eyes. He heard my step I'm sure but kept his head down until he had finished his paragraph. Then his shoulders relaxed and he said "Hullo, Lucy," before looking up. As he did, he gave a start. "Lu! Are you feeling well? You're white as a sheet."

"I have a headache," I said. "I'll be fine."

"Still—Ronoth!" he called, and the wizened satyr appeared from behind a bookshelf. "Bring the Queen some tea." He leaned closer and whispered "Which kind is good for headaches?"

I smiled, though a little thinly. "The tilleul."

"Some tilleul—make sure it's that one," he commanded, and Ronoth went off.

When he was gone, Edmund turned back to me. "So, how's our lovely Galmian princess?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, Caspian and Eustace are alone, and as she's incapable of amusing herself, that left only one alternative."

I gave him the same thin smile. "She wants me to speak to you."

"Oh?"

"She wants you to give consent to the wedding."

He snorted. "Right. That's not going to happen."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Do you want just one reason, or do you want all of them? The two which stand out most in my mind are that Narnia would put itself in danger allying itself with Wensted. The second is much simpler—Caspian does not want to marry her."

I lowered my eyes. I found it difficult to look at Edmund, because I didn't want him to see how relieved I was that Caspian did not love her. It was wrong of me to rejoice so much when Renna would be so sad.

"What are you reading?" I asked him before he could question me at all.

The wry mouth he pulled said he knew a diversionary tactic when he saw one, but he answered my question. "These are the accounts of Caspian the First, from when he conquered Narnia. It's interesting reading, if a little sad."

I glanced down at the book and saw Peter's name there. "Why does it mention Peter, then?"

He looked at the page and then back at me with rueful eyes. "It's about all of us, actually. Listen: _The rebels we have captured refuse to swear allegiance to me as King of Narnia. They say—all of them, as if brainwashed—that if I was not crowned by Aslan I am no king._

_"I desire to rule peacefully; we only left Telmar because of a great famine in the land. I do not tell these Narnians, no, nor even my own people, that I miss the wind-blown steppes of Telmar, the yellow grass and the high mountains. I have no great love of that endless stretch of foul water they call the sea, and the woods are dark and close, and altogether more alive that they should be. Narnia is a wild and savage country, and I am determined that the Telmarines must tame it if we are to last here any length of time._

_"To that end I am questioning these Narnians about their history. If I must I will blend their customs and ours together so they may think they surrender nothing. Accomplishing this will be no small difficulty. The Narnians are fierce in their faith. They seem to believe in a talking lion called Aslan who was murdered only to rise again from the dead. I fail to see how this is possible, but they have taken me to their Stone Table where this miracle allegedly happened. I like the place less than the forest that surrounds it. I have ordered my men to bury this Table under a mountain of earth. If Narnia fails to see this 'evidence' then perhaps they will forget."_

"No!" I gasped. "He didn't really do that! He couldn't!"

Edmund's face was grim. "I'm afraid it gets worse. _That still leaves the problem of the monarchs. Conquering an ideology is simple, but battling fact and memory will be more difficult. After their reverence of Aslan, these people honor their High King Peter and his consorts, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy. The evidence such rulers existed is everywhere. We have their letters, their possessions, their weapons. Unlike Aslan, they are undeniable fact. I have been unable to discern what their relationship was. The legend runs that they were brothers and sisters, but I fail to see how this was possible. I have never known four to rule as one with no struggle of power. Apparently they and all Narnia bent to the will of the eldest, Peter, the one whom they call the High King._

_"For several days I have been unsure in my mind whether I should try to tear down this High King or invoke his name for my own purposes. I tried to find some justification for my rule within Narnian code, but the High King's brother Edmund, him they call the Just, wrote down all the laws of this land in language so airtight there is no loophole for me. Since there is no way I can use these kings as support, I have no choice but to tear them down. I have ordered all their artifacts put in the dungeons, and as soon as we can build a new castle we shall move inland. In the meantime, I must find a way to destroy the glory of this High King. I look into his face in all the tapestries around the castle, and I think that he and his siblings were only human, however noble they may appear. Moreover, they were only human children. There must be a chink in the armor. I will find it, and I will use it. These Narnians will see their mistake in putting their faith in fictitious lions and child-kings._" Edmund looked at me. "Interesting, don't you think?"

What I said was "What a horrible man!" but that couldn't begin to express what I meant. There weren't enough words to vent my anger. How dare this Caspian?

"I know," Edmund said, "Who died and made him king?"

He meant it as a joke, but I couldn't find anything funny just then. "No one died," I said, reaching out to hold his wrist, "but we left. Edmund, how could we have abandoned Narnia to this? It's all my fault. I should never have said anything when we reached the lamp post. We should have listened to Susan and turned away."

"And what? Suppose we had. Suppose we stayed in Narnia and reigned until we died. Caspian the Conqueror invaded two hundred years after we left. We still couldn't have stopped him," he reasoned.

"One of us could have had children. An heir to the throne."

"Who? You? Me? There was never anyone either of us looked twice at, rumors of your crush on Tumnus notwithstanding."

I wasn't in the mood to be teased. "I never loved him like that. Besides, any child of ours could never have ruled—he wouldn't have been a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve."

Edmund began laughing so hard no sound came out. Then in one great intake of breath he gasped "I don't know _what_ species of baby you would have had!" Then he laughed harder.

I felt tears prick my eyes. I didn't want to laugh about me and Tumnus. I had never found the subject very funny anyway. He was too dear to my heart. Even if it had been funny I wouldn't have wanted to hear it. We were talking about the fall of Narnia. We had left our country to ruin. We had let the great castle of Cair Paravel and the four thrones crumble. We saved our country for an hour only to let it fall into ruin for an era. There was nothing to laugh about.

He saw how upset I was and tried to sober up for my sake, sniffed and wiped his eyes. "There's nothing we could have done Even if Susan or Peter had an heir, that's no guarantee. Frank and Helen had heirs, but that didn't stop the White Witch. If we had stayed till our deaths, what would have happened to Caspian? I know it's hard to think of Narnia suffering, but I can't help but think this is all exactly the way Aslan wanted it. He knew what he was doing when he sent us back home."

I saw that he was right. My guilt started to seep away, but not my outrage. "Caspian is horrible. What he did to Narnia—it makes me hate the Telmarines."

"Caspian the _First_ is horrible," he corrected with a thin smile. "Caspian the Tenth is everything his ancestors were not." He tapped his finger on the table. "I admire Caspian. He's a good king; he loves this land as much as you or I. More important, he's a good man—he's loyal and true and warm-hearted. Does it matter that he's got that temper? That he's so young still?"

"Of course not," I said with a frown. "Why are you asking?"

He shook his head at the sound of my voice. "I'm not. I'm just thinking aloud."

We sat in silence for awhile. Ronoth returned with the tea, and he had thoughtfully added some toast and marmalade. "It's dull to drink without having anything to eat," he said kindly.

I was going to thank him before Edmund rose and turned on him fiercely. "What did you say?" he growled.

I drew back. "Ed, he was just offering me some toast," I stammered. "It's not like he wanted to poison me."

Edmund looked at me so sharply I could see that was exactly what was running through his mind. "I didn't ask what he did, I asked what he said."

Ronoth started to shake. "N-nothing of consequence, your Majesty. Only that it's dull to drink without eating."

When he repeated these words, Edmund got even angrier. "Exactly. Leave us. At once."

Poor Ronoth set the tray down and fled from the room. I gave my brother a reproving look as I poured the tea. "What on earth's gotten into you?"

He stayed my hand and proceeded to sniff and examine everything on the tray.

"Edmund!" I exclaimed.

He leaned back with a skeptical face. "This appears to be fine."

"Do you really think Ronoth would try to poison us?" I asked.

"I don't know. I don't know," he repeated. His cheeks were very flushed, and his mouth was too red. A sickly, wet red. "He said—_she_ said that to me. When she fed me the Turkish Delight."

"But he couldn't have known that!" I protested.

"No, you're right. It's just—ever since Aslan came to me, all I can think about is enemies of Narnia. Did he say anything like that to you?"

"Yes. He said there were enemies without and within. But we can't go looking for them. That's borrowing trouble. We'll know the enemies of Narnia when we see them," I reassured him. "We always do."

He tapped his chin. I noticed though that his face was returning to its normal coloring. "But sometimes almost too late."

"Look, if Aslan charged us with this mission, it means he's on our side. He'll guide us. He hasn't left us to fend for ourselves ever, and I know he won't this time." I held his hands and looked into his eyes. "Have faith, Edmund."

He didn't say or do anything, except to nod once, definitively. He let go of my hands and closed his book. He replaced it on the shelf himself since he had sent Ronoth away. As he did, he said over his shoulder, "Would you like to stay awhile, Lucy?" which was his way of saying "Please stay with me."

"I did have a letter I wanted to answer," I said, drawing Dara's letter out of my pocket. He smiled, and furnished me with more pens, ink, and paper than I could ever need. Then he sat down across from me and started writing himself. For awhile the only sound in the room was Edmund's gold pen as it scratched across the paper.

I reread Dara's letter. Answering her on all the conversational points was easy and fun, but when it came to talking about love I was stuck. I couldn't think of what to say beyond that I was happy for her. I didn't even know if I shared her wish and wanted something like that for myself. I had Narnia, and that was enough. And Narnia asked for my protection. I didn't have time to pursue my own personal fancies when my country needed me.

I watched Edmund scribbling so intently. He was so deep in his thoughts that he had stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth without doing that. He has had that habit forever. Watching him gave me a sense of comfort, a sense of home. We could literally travel to the ends of the earth and I would never feel very far from home because Edmund was there. Only Peter and Susan could make me feel more complete.

I tickled my nose with the feather on my quill and considered him. Perhaps I didn't need to worry about romance after all. I had Edmund. That was more than enough.


	5. Give Me Leave to Love

_Give Me Leave to Love_

_(Caspian)_

They didn't know I was listening. Lucy would never have said it otherwise. But because they thought they were alone, I heard her say in a voice full of rage "Caspian is so horrible. It makes me hate the Telmarines."

I shuddered when I heard her speak so. I had known Lucy for years, but I had never known her to be angry. From the fierceness in her voice I could tell it was more than mere anger; she was outraged.

I was going to go in and join them, but I turned away from the door. I knew Lucy wasn't talking about me even before Edmund corrected her, but even so. I am a Telmarine. I am the descendant of this Caspian the Conqueror. I bear his name. And I always have to carry that with me.

I walked slowly, meditatively through the halls of the castle. Did Cair Paravel really even belong to me? This castle belonged to Edmund and Lucy, and their sister Susan and their brother the High King. The four thrones were waiting for them for a hundred long years. In taking it for my own, was I much better than my ancestors?

Trufflehunter was overseeing the statues for the garden, and I went into the workshop. This place was not like the other workshops and construction sites that we had used for the castle's restoration. Those had been noisy and dusty and raucous, but this workshop was cool and pristine. There was the occasional _chink_ as one of the artisans made a chip at a statue.

"Your Majesty," Trufflehunter said with a bow, speaking in his low voice. "I was hoping you would come visit today. We have just finished work on the statue of Mr. Tumnus."

"Excellent! Show me straightaway."

I followed Trufflehunter across the room. The faun had a merry face and bright eyes even set in stone. I could see why Lucy was such great friends with him; I wanted to befriend him myself. I reached out to touch the hand of the statue and was surprised to feel cold marble under my fingertips. He looked so lifelike I almost believed he would be warm.

Tumnus had been there for all of it. He had welcomed Lucy into Narnia. He had seen the end of the hundred year winter and the beginning of the Golden Age. Though Narnia was finding her old ways again, I thought she would always pale in comparison to the days when Peter kept his court here at Cair. If I had a wish, it would be to live in those times. Even to be a common paige would be better to live in these paler days.

"What does your majesty think?" Trufflehunter ventured to ask.

"It's marvelous. Queen Lucy will be especially pleased, I think." I smiled at the workman, who bowed.

"The artisan working on King Peter will begin cutting this afternoon. Before he does, though, he requested your help, if you can give it. He said he would like to hear your impressions of the High King before beginning the statue"

I nodded. "Tell him I'll be here after lunch. I'm not sure when exactly. I don't know what Renna will want to do today," I added in a weary undertone.

The statue garden was my idea. There had been a hall of statues in Miraz's palace, impressive pieces in black marble which frowned down on me as a child. The solemnity of this hall had struck me because I was raised to think that these were the great figures of Narnia. Now that I knew better I wanted to create a fitting tribute to the finest hours, and improving on the old Telmarine tradition did not seem like a bad idea at the time. Not only would it look good, it would teach the Telmarines who still cling to their old histories of Caspians that this is their true history. This is Narnia.

In pursuing this train of thought, I remembered what I had been thinking of when I entered. "Trufflehunter," I said, "Why does Old Narnia still want me to be king?"

"In the first place, I thought it was all one Narnia now," Trufflehunter answered. "And in the second, I am not sure what your Majesty means."

"Well, Edmund and Lucy are back. Why do you need me?"

He gave me a strange look and shook his head. "Because you are king."

"But what about Edmund and Lucy? They're the monarchs of old, and I'm a Telmarine. A usurper."

"Your Majesty has had too much sun. Don't you remember what the High King said to you when he met you at the very first?" I shook my head, so he supplied me with the words. "We haven't come to take your place, you know, but to put you in it."

"What is my place?" I muttered. I saw though that Trufflehunter was still examining me skeptically, so I smiled at him. Then I went back to the castle.

Renna was waiting for me, of course. Oddly, the first thing she asked me was "Have you spoken with Edmund?"

"Not this morning, no," I said, taking off my cloak.

Her face fell at once. She had very obvious expressions, but I never seemed to be able to guess at what prompted these reactions. "How's the weather?"

"Cold. We shall have the first snow soon," I answered. We were often reduced to talking about the weather, and yet she always wanted to have conversations with me. I couldn't understand it. I couldn't understand _her._

By the end of our lunch, Renna and I had completely run out of things to say. Eustace was off with the mice again and Edmund and Lucy didn't show up, so we had to entertain each other. After staring at each other over the pudding, I finally had an idea. "I have to go to the workshops this afternoon. Do you want to join me?"

"Of course!" she said at once. I had the feeling she was trained to agree with everything I said. If I suggested bivouacking in the snow to train for battle, she would have agreed, even though I doubt she's ever spent a night outdoors. She added after a moment "What do you have to do?"

"I commissioned a statue of King Peter, and the artist would like my impressions of the King so he knows how to sculpt it. He's the most talented sculptor in Narnia. I hope he can do the High King justice."

"Why didn't you hire a Calormene sculptor? They do particularly fine work." She looked immensely proud that she had come up with a suggestion, so much so that I checked my frown of disapproval.

"These statues honor Narnia. I want them to be made entirely by Narnian hands," I answered. "But come. They're waiting."

I helped her into her cloak and she threw me a smile over her shoulder. As we retraced my steps of that morning, she clung to my arm. I noticed that she seemed to think about these things before she did them, as if she had been trained in coquetry. I was sure this was the case when she turned her ankle on air and I had to catch her to prevent her falling.

She stayed in my arms a moment longer than necessary before righting herself. "Thank you," she breathed. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Mmm." I tried to smile and not think of how Edmund would have laughed if he had been there. It was all so fake and obvious, exactly the opposite of when I'm with Lucy. With her, everything is so natural that holding her hand is like a subliminal reflex.

In the workshop, Renna and I sat before the artist and his block of marble. "I am pleased your majesty could come. Your help will greatly improve the quality of my work, since I did not know the High King very well."

Renna turned to me. "You knew him? This man everyone talks about all the time?"

I tried not to give her a strange look. "Of course. He's Edmund and Lucy's brother. They all helped me defeat Miraz."

She giggled. "I forgot."

She forgot, though I must have told her the story ten times. I turned to Morin rather abruptly. "How would you like to begin?"

He smiled as if he understood the matter. He pulled over a table which had three portraits of Peter on it. "If your Majesty pleases to choose which best represents the High King's likeness, particularly in his expression and manner, then we will have something to begin with."

As I began to consider the paintings, Renna breathed, "This is what he looked like?" She seemed in awe.

All the portraits were good, but there was one which captured his spirit exactly, the proud set of his jaw, the nobility that seemed to emanate from him. "This one," I said, tapping it. "Certainly."

Morin smiled. "Excellent. Now, if your Majesty would deign to tell me about the High King."

I smiled and leaned back, collecting my thoughts. I knew Renna was watching, but I blocked out the feeling of her eyes on me.

"He came right at the moment when everything was falling apart. Nikabrik and the hag and the werewolf were attacking us, the army was wounded and weary, and I barely knew what I was doing to start with. Then Peter came in. He knew exactly what to do. When he spoke, I felt as though I would have followed him through fire, but there was no need of that. His commands were tempered with wisdom.

"You would think that being the High King with only Aslan above him he would be…well, to borrow a word from Eustace, stuck-up. But no. He treated everyone with respect, and me like an equal. He was lordly and human all at the same time."

"I can hardly believe he was real," Renna said.

"I know. I spent my childhood hearing stories of him, and then he was before me, just as all the stories described him. Trumpkin said he was originally disappointed to learn that they were children but for me it was a fairy tale come true."

She sighed. "Narnia _is_ a magical land. Some who have been here speak of this land in Galma, but no one believes the stories they tell. Galma is a practical country, and tales of Narnia are fantastic. But I always hoped. I always made sure I heard the stories of travelers."

I helped her to her feet. "Me too!" We started to walk outside. "When I was a child in my uncle's castle the best hours of the day were when my nurse would tell me stories of Old Narnia. And can I tell you something?"

Her eyes shone, and I realized she was a little pretty. She had stopped squinting, at least. "Please."

"When I was a little boy, I used to try to make all the cats and dogs in the castle talk to me in the hopes that I would revive Old Narnia."

She broke off into laughter. "I can just imagine you as a boy crouched down in front of the cats asking them 'Where are you going? What have you done today?'"

I blushed a little, but I also realized for the first time that it was easy to talk to her. I didn't have to think so hard. "When I woke up with Trumpkin and Trufflehunter and Nikabrik I thought I was dreaming, or that I fell into a story."

She laid her hand on my arm. "They don't speak of the High King in Galma. Will you tell me more about him? How is it that he came to be called the High King?"

"I can't say I know all the details," I told her, "But from my understanding the story goes like this. There was a powerful witch in Narnia who made it always winter and never Christmas, and a prophecy that said her reign would only end when two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve sat in the thrones at Cair Paravel. Lucy led them through the wardrobe—"

"The wardrobe?" Renna interrupted. "What is that?"

"A wardrobe. You know, like you would have in your bedroom." I tried not to show how odd I thought it was that she wasn't familiar with a common wardrobe.

"Why—how did they come from a wardrobe? What land did they hail from?" Renna asked, squinting in confusion.

"They don't come from another land, they come from another world. The wardrobe was the doorway between theirs and this," I explained. "They only came through it that once, though. The second time I summoned them with Queen Susan's horn, and the third time, when Edmund and Lucy arrived with Eustace they just appeared in the middle of the air."

"Why didn't the High King and his other sister come with them?" Now she was rubbing her forehead in confusion.

"Edmund said he wasn't with them at the time, but also after they helped me in the war against Miraz, Aslan said that Peter and Susan couldn't come back to Narnia. I don't know why." I looked towards the castle I had rebuilt in Peter's honor. "Narnia was never so prosperous and happy as she was under Peter and the others. Peter was great because he knew how to lead. He didn't try to do everything for himself. He let Edmund plan and Lucy heal. He inspired this whole country to be better than it was. Yes, part of his title comes from the fact that he led the battle against the White Witch and fulfilled the prophecy, but I don't think he could have kept it for a thousand years if he wasn't magnificent after that, for the whole of his reign." I looked from the castle back to her. "I'll tell you, Renna, if I am half the king Peter was, I shall say I did right by Narnia."

She looked at me and smiled. "Imagine how it must be to be so great! Your name remembered for centuries," she breathed.

I turned away and began to lead her back toward the castle. I had thought for a moment that she understood. I never got to talk about this with anyone, particularly not with Edmund and Lucy. They always got uncomfortable when I spoke so glowingly of the Golden Age. Renna let me speak about it, but she didn't understand my ambition. I wanted to be great not for myself, but for my country. I wanted Narnia to live in such peace and prosperity again.

She misread my abrupt turn. "Caspian, you will do it. You have already—you sailed to the end of the World. No other king has done that, not even Peter."

"King Edmund and Queen Lucy were with me," I corrected. I let her walk beside me but I did not offer my arm. Lucy probably would have chided me for being discourteous, but I was too disappointed to think about that. I wanted someone to understand me.

I started to think about Lucy. I tried not to think about her too much, since it seemed to me that she was becoming a lost cause. Edmund was so very much against my courting her. Once he had given his blessing, but apparently he had done so conditionally. And then, I didn't know how Lucy felt. All I knew was that I never had to search for what to say to her. I didn't have to say anything at all and she knew what I was thinking.

I left Renna at the castle entrance under the pretense of having some business, and I went upstairs to my chambers. I stood for a long time in front of the painting of the stars burning in the Eastern sky, and I thought about the golden softness of her hair and the way she smelled, fresh like the wild lilies of the last sea and warm like her cordial. Clearly I was growing sentimental.

After dinner that evening, Morin sent a messenger to the castle with the portraits of Peter. When he brought them in to me, Eustace wanted to know what they were. I didn't want to betray the surprise of the garden, so I said I was having them restored. I spread them out on the table before everyone.

"Do you know I can barely remember what Peter looks like in real life?" Eustace said. "All I see clearly in my head are these pictures of him as King of Narnia. I don't remember him as my cousin anymore."

Edmund and Lucy smiled at each other. Lucy picked up a different picture from the one I had selected. "This one looks most like him, don't you think, Ed?"

He took it from her. "Absolutely. This one looks like my brother; the others look like the High King. Can you remember when they painted this?"

"Of course! It was for his twentieth birthday." She giggled. "We were riding together, and he forgot all about the sitting. The portrait was a gift from Terebinthia, and they had sent their most famous artist to come and paint it. He was a very temperamental fellow, and though Peter had every right to keep him waiting, he rushed back to the castle all the same. He didn't want to listen to the artist grumble the whole time."

Edmund was laughing now. "I remember I was sitting there trying to placate him—he was getting so worked up—when Peter bursts into the room all wind-swept and decidedly un-magnificent. I tried to tell him to go change, but he said he didn't care in the first place, so he sat for the portrait just as he was."

Lucy examined the portrait over Edmund's shoulder. "Caspian," she said, "What are you going to do with this picture?

"I don't know. I didn't have a purpose in mind," I replied.

"Could I hang it in my chambers? It would be nice to have a reminder of Peter," she said with a smile.

"Consider it yours." Making her happy takes the smallest things, but it is the most rewarding thing I can do sometimes. She gave me a hug.

"Thank you!" she cried. "I shall have them hang it tomorrow."

Renna crossed the room and bent over a map. "Caspian, come and show me this map. I'd like to grow more familiar with Narnian geography."

Her aim was not lost on anyone. Edmund's eyebrows shot up, and Lucy stepped away from me very quickly. Eustace started to whistle to himself. I had no other choice; I went to pour over the map with Renna.

The first snow came a few nights later. When we woke in the morning the grounds were glittering with the bright snow. I knew of the hundred years' winter, but it was hard to hate winter when it came on so beautifully.

"Do you know," Renna said to me at breakfast, "I've never seen snow before. It doesn't snow in Galma, we just have a rainy season. Eustace told me it's because of the currents."

I laughed. "Probably he's right. I'll tell you what. After breakfast we'll all go for a ride—I always like the first snow myself."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she hitched up a smile. "All right. That sounds lovely."

The others never appeared. I looked all through the castle for them: in the Great Hall, the sitting room, Edmund's study. Nothing. Finally I found Sillan and asked her: she said that Lucy had gone riding with Edmund and Eustace.

"Why didn't she tell me?" I murmured.

"I think your Majesty knows the answer to that question already," Sillan said.

I didn't, but I did know that Renna looked very happy when I told her it would just be the two of us. We rode off alone.

The morning was bright and quiet, and I didn't feel much like talking as we rode. I wanted to soak up the scenery and the sunshine, and feel the cold air on my cheeks. I wanted to gallop at full speed. But Renna was a loquacious companion and a poor horseman, so I got to do none of these things. Instead, I spoiled a lovely morning by forcing conversation.

We had dismounted and were standing in a glade trying to think of something to say when I heard the music of familiar laughter. Not two seconds later, Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace came into view, all three of them laughing over some good joke. I went over to them immediately.

"Friends, what is this merriment?" I asked, searching each of their faces in turn.

Lucy's smile grew a little stiff. Edmund gave her a sidelong glance before he said to me "We were just talking of Reepicheep, and how well he schooled Eustace."

I laughed. "Then please stay, and let me share the story. You know how much I miss him."

They wouldn't stay. Lucy's downcast eyes spurred Edmund to make some excuse. At first I was bewildered by this, and not a little hurt, but I caught Eustace's eye. He raised his eyebrows and nodded, and I understood what he meant, though not how it was possible.

I went to check on the statues every day, like as not with Renna as my shadow. I tried to conceal from her exactly why I wanted the work completed speedily, but one day I let slip a comment when I said goodbye to Morin. "I would love to show her something before Christmas. If she liked the picture, imagine how pleased she'll be with a statue of her brother!" I looked at Renna immediately after I said this, and I'm sure guilt was written on my face. Her pursed lips told me I had revealed quite a lot.

I watched her carefully to see if she might reveal something to Lucy. I couldn't decide on Renna's character. Sometimes she seemed perfectly stupid, while at other moments I thought she saw everything with sharp eyes. I didn't know if she had a malicious streak or if her beady eyes were a genetic fault.

Apparently she said nothing, for nothing changed except that Lucy grew a little more distant from me. Even though I knew this probably boded well, or hopefully it did anyway, I missed the confidence we used to share. I missed taking her hand whenever the mood struck me, and I missed the way she smiled directly into my eyes.

One day we were all in the sitting room in the afternoon. Everyone began to file out one by one: Eustace wanted to visit the greenhouses, and he took Renna for a walk since she was feeling restless. Edmund wanted to read his books. Lucy and I were alone for the first time in ages. I turned to her, and all the things I wanted to say to her bubbled to my lips. I stepped forward to take her hands, but she stepped back.

"I wonder that I shouldn't go down to the stables. One of the horses was feeling unwell this morning…" she faltered.

"If you think that's best," I said, trying to affect indifference to cover my disappointment. She almost ran from the room.

A horrid thought occurred to me. What if my suit was successful? What if Edmund finally relented and I was allowed to love Lucy and she loved me? Would this be the way of things, the discomfort, the blushes, the not knowing what to say? Would we sacrifice all our old closeness for some courtly love? I shuddered at the thought. If we lost all that closeness, what would be the point of courting her? I might as well stay with Renna and keep Lucy as my friend.

Even if unrequited love was better, I still wanted to make Lucy happy. When Morin sent me a message that the head and shoulders were done on Peter's statue and I could show the others, I looked up from the note and declared that everyone was going to accompany me.

Lucy protested. "Oh, but I was going to—"

"No buts. Can't you tell when I've got a surprise for you, Lucy?"

She blushed prettily, and I took advantage of her momentary confusion to take her hand as I hadn't done in a long time. Her fingers shook a little at first, but then she held on like always. The exchange was simple, but three other pairs of eyes were boring into us, trying to glean all the meaning they could. I had the desire to run down to the docks with Lucy and jump on the Dawn Treader and leave everyone else behind.

We went to the workshop instead. Morin had arranged everything with a nice dramatic touch, grouping the statues under a huge cloth. He grinned while we filed in and assembled ourselves around him.

"Morin has been working on something for the castle, and addition of my own, which I would very much like for you to see," I explained. I nodded to him, and he pulled off the cloth with a flourish. It made a lovely rushing sound, very thrilling.

As soon as they saw the statues, Lucy and Edmund gaped. I thought it was because Morin had done such a remarkable job, and I suppose that was part of it, in a way. But after a second Lucy gave a small squeak and hid her face against Edmund.

I rarely see Edmund hold or even touch Lucy, but he held her tight as if he was reeling. He seemed unable to speak, and there was some horror in his eyes.

I didn't know what to say. I was so sure that they would be pleased. The likeness was perfect; it looked exactly like Peter, as though his living self had been cast in stone. I thought the marvel of the work would have pleased them. I exchanged confused looks with Morin.

Eustace was bemused too. "Ed, what's the matter with her? And you? It's just a statue! A mighty good one, but nothing to get so excited about."

Lucy squeaked again, and the noise was muffled against Edmund's shoulder. He held a little tighter to her and shook his head is if to loosen the ability to speak. "Don't you remember the White Witch?"

"Of course!" I said. "We all do. You were the ones who ended her terrible reign."

"Terrible, yes," Edmund agreed. "She was horribly cruel. Don't the legends say then what she did to punish those who displeased her?" He was very white.

I remembered, and my heart sank into my stomach. "She turned them into stone," I said slowly. "I didn't even think—it didn't occur to me. Edmund, you've got to know that."

"Of course, but you understand…" he trailed off as he indicated Lucy.

"I just wanted to honor him! It was a statue in his honor, and I had Tumnus done for Lucy," I said miserably.

Now she lifted her head from her brother's shoulder. "I can't. I can't look at them. I'm sorry Caspian. Please excuse me." She turned from Edmund and ran out of the room. Eustace followed at her heels, puling Renna along behind him.

Edmund seemed a little recovered from his initial surprise. "My compliments to the artist," he said with a grim smile. "If the likeness wasn't so good my sister wouldn't have been so upset." He walked around the statue, surveying it carefully. I thought I heard him whisper "This is the stuff of my nightmares," but I couldn't be sure. I thought it best not to question him.

"It's interesting that you chose this image of Peter for the statue. Lucy and I said the other looked more like him," he commented.

"This one best matched my own recollection of him," I answered a little stiffly. I didn't know if I wanted to talk about all this.

He looked at me carefully, a shrewd glint in his eyes. "How so?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? It not only looks like him, the statue has his expression, his manner. This is the face of the High King."

Edmund nodded, and rubbed his chin as he considered the statue. "Indulge me for a moment, Caspian."

"Of course," I said warily. I didn't like the look in his eyes, it was too sharp, too piercing.

"Tell me why you love Lucy."

"Why? You already know! I've told you more times than I can count!"

"I asked you to indulge me."

I pushed my hand through my hair and started to pace. How could I articulate to Edmund what I didn't even know myself? Could I name the hour when I started to love Lucy? Was it when she came out of my cabin in that very first hour on the Dawn Treader wearing my clothes? Or was it when I bent to whisper in her ear how to beat Reepicheep at chess, or when I saw her give the last of her small water ration to Eustace? It had to be one of these quiet moments, because my love crept up on me. One day I turned around and I knew. But I could never say how.

"Well?" he pressed.

I looked at him. "She is like no other queen. She is brave and adventurous and warm and kind." I couldn't put into words the other part, how I felt that she knew me from the inside, how I could look into her eyes and see this secret part of myself reflected there. Who says things like that aloud aside from overly romantic poets?

He sighed. "You say the same things every time I ask you, but they're always about Lucy's legend, not Lucy herself. Caspian, I can't help but look at this statue and wonder—are you sure you're in love with Lucy herself and not Old Narnia?"

"What do you need for me to prove this to you, Edmund? I love her!" I exploded.

"You say that over and over, but do you even know what it means?" He saw my face and he put out a hand to check me. "You know why I ask. Why I've constantly asked for the past three years. Think about it, Caspian. It's only natural."

I hate arguing with Edmund because he always winds up saying something that makes perfect sense and I have nothing left to say. There was no point in storming and thundering; Edmund was only trying to protect his sister. I would do the same if I had one.

"If you want to protect her, then maybe we ought to go back to the castle and check on her," I said a little stiffly. Then I thought about how distressed she was and I turned and walked up to the castle.

Lucy was in the sitting room, sitting on the sofa and crying to her hands. Eustace was pacing nervously behind her while Renna was sitting watching her from the writing table.

I hated myself for being so stupid. How could I have forgotten about the Witch's punishment? I had made Lucy cry; I only wanted to make her happy. She should have been cast onto the couch sobbing her heart out, but she kept trying to regain her composure. "I'm sorry," she said to the others with a sniff. "I'll be alright in a moment."

"Oh, Lucy," I breathed, going to sit next to her.

She looked up and tried to wipe the tears away from her face. "I'm sorry—just give me a minute."

I pulled her hands away. "Don't do that. Cry. It's okay. _I'm_ sorry." I put my hand on her neck and stroked her cheek with my thumb. I knew everyone was watching, even Edmund, who was on my heels, but I didn't care.

She looked straight into my eyes and threw her arms around my neck. I held her while she cried for a minute. I wanted to say "I'm sorry" over and over, but I knew it wouldn't assuage my guilt. How could I have been so stupid?

"Don't blame yourself, Caspian," Renna said with a disapproving sniff. "You can't be expected to know everything."

"I can be expected to know _this_," I answered, tightening my arms around Lucy.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Eustace quickly cut across her "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

"Now?" Renna said.

"Yes. Right now."

She glanced at me and Lucy, and then she rose with a sour expression on her face and followed Eustace out of the room.

After awhile Lucy stopped crying, and I leaned against the back of the couch. She reclined with me, resting her head on my shoulder. Her arm was slung across my waist. She didn't say anything, but every so often she pulled me closer to her, and I knew that a shudder of seeing that statue passed over her. We hadn't been this close since our days on the Dawn Treader, and I should have been happy to have the moment I had been waiting for, but I just felt miserable. I bent my head over her, allowed my lips to touch her hair.

"Please don't blame yourself," she said at last in a small voice.

"I can't help but," I answered.

She shifted so that she could look up into my face. "No. I'm glad that you forgot. It means that her power is gone. Narnia has forgotten her, and we thought they would never forget. I think that maybe Peter and all of us have done right by Narnia if she is just a dim memory of evil."

I looked right into her eyes. They are such a startlingly deep blue. Blue eyes are mostly light like water, but hers are deep like the sky at twilight. "Lucy—how…?"

She blushed. "How what?"

"How do you always find something positive. You're amazing. You—" I broke off, because I felt very close indeed to kissing her. Her eyes were sparkling, and underneath that I could see some anticipation and a vague reflection of what I was feeling. She trembled a little, and I could sense some trepidation, but that only made me want to kiss her more.

I tried to summon up an image of Edmund. I didn't want to betray his trust, and I would never go back on my word to him. I asked for his blessing, and I would wait until I got it. If I could resist this temptation.

I was almost grateful when I heard Edmund's footstep in the doorway, though Lucy jumped a mile when he spoke. "Feeling better then, Lu?" he asked.

She turned bright red and shifted as far away as possible. "Yes. A little. I mean, I think I need some tea. Or maybe I'll lie down. I'll see you later, at dinner."

Edmund said nothing but watched her very carefully as she flustered and fluttered out of the room. I think the intensity of his stare only made matters worse for her, so as she was leaving, I grasped her hand. She gave me one swift grateful look before she was out the door.

He was staring at me. I met his eyes levelly. I could look him in the face; I hadn't broken his trust, although I had come very close. He kept eye contact for a long time, and I forced myself not to break it. Eventually he nodded, and then he left to follow his sister.


	6. Some Happy Dream

_Some Happy Dream_

_(Lucy)_

After Edmund came I ran upstairs to my room. My face was so hot I thought I was getting ill. My head was spinning; I couldn't understand anything. I threw open all the windows in the hopes that the sharp air would cool by burning cheeks and clear my head. Why should I feel so unsettled by Edmund showing up? Why did that moment with Caspian feel so…intimate? He was only offering me comfort. That's what friends do. Though perhaps friends did not look at each other so intensely.

The memory of Caspian's eyes, the look in them before he heard Edmund's footstep, rushed up at me. I couldn't bear it. I lay down on the bed and hugged a pillow to me. I didn't know what was wrong with me.

I lay like that for a long time, unable to get up or do anything. Perhaps I was getting sick. Every time I started to feel normal again, I saw Caspian in front of me and I had to hide my face again. After awhile, Edmund and Eustace came in to see how I was doing. I was glad they were there, but I didn't know what to say to them. I didn't even know how to be normal anymore, it seemed.

"It's freezing in here!" Edmund cried, rushing to shut the terrace doors. He drew them to with a bang. "What's the matter with you, Lucy? Are you trying to make yourself sick?"

"I don't know what's the matter with me," I mumbled.

Eustace sat down next to me and patted my hair awkwardly. "It's okay," he said. "You'll feel better soon. I think I know what it is."

Edmund scowled. "No, you don't. How would you know anything about it?" he snapped. He took my shoulders and pulled me up. "Listen, it's almost Christmas. What would you like? We can go away for a couple of days if you want. Just you and me. We can visit Lantern Waste, or get some sun in the south of Archenland. Whatever you want, Lu. I'll take you away."

"I don't want to go away," I answered. "I promised Caspian I would help with the ball."

"Hang Caspian! What's he got to do with anything?" Edmund let me go with a shake and began to pace the room.

I rubbed my forehead. "Edmund, why are you yelling at me?" I asked wearily. The last thing I needed was something else I couldn't understand.

He stopped and sighed. "I'm sorry, Lu." He came and sat in front of me. "All I wanted to say was that you shouldn't let Caspian stop you. You look as though you could really use a holiday."

In fact, though, it was Caspian who was stopping me. Perhaps this past summer I would have wanted to go away with Edmund, but everything had changed. Now even though I was hardly able to stay in the same room with Caspian, I hated to put more than a corridor between us. I knew that if I went away with Edmund the trip wouldn't put my mind off things, I would just think of Caspian and blush and hide my face even more. I didn't want to be that blushing type, prone to faints and starts. I shook my head. "No. There's too much going on. It's not a good time to leave."

He caught my hand. "Please?"

I looked up quickly. Edmund rarely even says so much as please. He doesn't ask favors; he likes to be independent. "Why?" I asked.

"Never mind. It's not important," he said, letting go of my hand. He got up and headed towards the door. I knew better than to try and stop him when he was this moody. I didn't say anything, but he turned back to me and gave me a long, piercing look, just like the one he had given me when he discovered me with Caspian. "I didn't think it would be so soon," he said. His voice was so sad.

We all spent breakfast the next morning trying to pretend nothing happened, but of course that was impossible. Caspian tried to talk to me about plans for the Christmas ball, but I couldn't look him in the eye. In between his attempts to speak to me, Renna tried to grab his hand and his arm, running his fingers over the back of his hand, brushing his sleeve. He kept shaking her off every time he used his knife and moved his right hand though. If I hadn't been feeling so out of sorts, I would have thought it very funny. Edmund spent most of the meal not eating and glaring lethally at Caspian. I truly felt bad for him; it had been a long time since anyone I knew had been on the receiving end of one of those looks from Edmund, and I knew things weren't going to end well. I also suspected I had some role to play in this, so after breakfast I said I was going to the sitting room. Caspian started to follow me, but Edmund swung his arms and said, "I think I could use some fighting practice. Will you match me at swords, Caspian?"

Caspian was thrown by his friendly tone, and so he accepted. I knew though that Edmund was not in a better mood; he simply wanted to take his anger out physically. I worried a little for Caspian only because he was going to be taken very much off guard.

We were at a junction in the corridors. Edmund and Caspian were going to go downstairs to the sort of gym Eustace had suggested adding, and indeed Edmund was already speaking with a servant to have the swords brought. Eustace and Renna were already beginning up the steps that would lead us to our morning of books and tedium in the sitting room. Caspian's hand found mine, and he squeezed it without looking at me, letting go before Edmund saw a thing. I glanced at him over my shoulder. There was so much I wanted to say to Caspian. I wanted to sit and talk with him like we did on the deck of the Dawn Treader. I wanted him to squeeze my hand and smile at me innocently so I could feel safe enough to exchange secrets and philosophies.

In the parlor, I wondered when everything started to change. Dara's wedding day was a little emotionally charged, but that's because it was a wedding. But before that, the only time Caspian surprised me was when we returned to Ramandu's Island on the homeward trip of the Dawn Treader. I knew he had been struck by the lady's beauty. Even I was. Yet he didn't ask her to come home with us, even after we had wintered there and he had spent a lot of time with her. I looked over at Renna. If I had thought Caspian might love Ramandu's daughter and I was mistaken, perhaps he didn't love Renna after all. My heart nearly stopped when I thought of what that might mean for me.

"Lucy, you're awfully pale," Eustace remarked.

"Yes, I've noticed that too," Renna said. "When Caspian and I are married, you should come to winter in Galma. It's much warmer. The climate would do you good, and my father has many estates by the shore. Caspian told me you like the water."

"That's one of the things they share," Eustace said with a faint scowl. He looked a little bit like Edmund.

Renna came to sit by me. "Do you know, I think Caspian may go against Edmund's wishes? I think he might ask me to marry him all the same."

I knew she was bluffing; Caspian would never do such a thing. Still, I disliked the way she lingered over Caspian's name, as if pairing it with "me" and "I" could make him love her. I forced myself to nod amicably, but I was thinking all the while that this was Renna's fault. Before she came I didn't worry about how handsome Caspian was. I never thought about him getting married, we just went on as we always had. I was happy. Now everything was ruined, even if he didn't marry Renna.

I got up, thinking I would like to swing a sword myself just to get rid of the restlessness. Watching would be the next best thing. I went down to the practice room. As I neared, though, I didn't hear the clash and clang of swords. I heard voices rebounding off each other.

"I told you to wait! Were you so impatient that you couldn't keep your word—the word of a king?" Edmund shouted. "Does that mean nothing to you, or do you take oaths just to break them?"

"Do not impugn my character, Edmund! I have done the best I could to abide by your rules!" Caspian growled.

"Evidently your best is not much of an effort! You gave me your word—"

"And I held to it! I held to it, even when I didn't want to! When it killed me to do so! What do you want of me?"

"I want you to keep your word, and I want you to leave her alone! Forget it! Everything I said in Coriakin's house—forget it!"

I had been about to turn the door handle, but I stopped. Now I was sure they were arguing about me. I had no idea what happened when I was upstairs in Coriakin's house, but Edmund's reneging of his promise made Caspian doubly furious. "You talk of honor and yet you're going to go back on your word? This is too much! You have crossed me at every turn, King Edmund, and I held my tongue—"

"When, on Goldwater? You would have drawn your sword on me! And again, when you wanted to desert Narnia! If I cross you, there is a reason for it!"

"And what is the reason here? Can you think of one now? You never could before."

"I have given you my reasons. You don't know what it is to have a family. You wouldn't understand," Edmund answered coldly.

I reached for the door handle then, unsure whether to go in or not. The silence that followed was too dangerous for me to stand there and do nothing. I opened the door.

Caspian and Edmund were facing each other with their swords drawn. Edmund was very white except for his cheeks, which had that strange high color that shows he is particularly angry. Caspian, on the other hand, was almost purple. I had opened the door intending to do something, but when I saw how angry they were I didn't know what to say.

They both noticed me at the same moment. Caspian exclaimed "Lucy!" and Edmund asked sharply "How much did you hear?"

"I heard what you said to Caspian," I replied. "That was very unkind, Edmund. How could you say such a thing knowing all Caspian's been through?"

Edmund opened his mouth to answer, but paused to think. It has been a trait of his ever since he first came to Narnia—he starts to react impulsively, but his brain kicks in before the reflex is quite finished. It looks very funny sometimes, but I love him the better for it. "You're right," he said at last. "I'm sorry, Caspian. Will you shake hands?"

Caspian's face cleared instantly. "Of course."

Though they made up quickly, their fight unsettled me. It was only a symptom of what was wrong with us. We were no longer ourselves, and that was sad. We had such fun on the Dawn Treader, and now that all seemed to be going away. It was as bad as when the suitors started to come for Susan. Peter grew so horribly stiff and he was so often angry, and Susan grew further and further away from us all. In the end it was all sorted out, but I often thought that was only because she didn't get married.

I couldn't go back to talk to Renna; I still thought this was all her fault. Instead I went into a little chapel I had called my own when I was queen. It was a little room which had stained glass from floor to ceiling. On sunny days the whole room filled up with the colored glow from the windows, and it's beautifully serene. I decided to pass an hour or two in this place to clear my head. It's what I always used to do whenever I felt troubled.

Life had been so easy and happy since we returned on the Dawn Treader, though, that I hadn't been in the little chapel much at all. I had used it mostly when I couldn't bear waiting for Peter and Edmund to come home, or as a refuge for when everyone else was at each other's throats.

In my day the stained glass was very old, full of strange symbols which I spent many hours trying to decipher. A lion's head kept reappearing, and there was a tree, and a horse sprouting wings, and two children, but none of the pictures were connected and they were very crudely done. However, the evident devotion to Aslan made them very beautiful. I loved puzzling over their meanings, and when I needed to clear my head this could distract me for hours and turn my mind to Aslan. I found peace that way. I knew I could have brought Edmund in and he could have either told me or found out the meanings, but I liked the mystery.

When I knelt to contemplate the windows, though, I saw they had changed completely. Gone were the simple colors and odd symbols. I should have been more prepared, but Cair Paravel had been so perfectly restored I sometimes imagined it was the same castle I had lived in, and the little differences jarred me.

The windows I found myself staring at were ornate and expertly done, clearly weaving a story through their detailed pictures. As I examined them, I realized they told my own story. I saw the lamp post and Mr. Tumnus, and me and Susan at the Stone Table, and me healing Edmund on the battlefield. There I was in my mail shirt at the defense of Anvard, and in the next long window I was a child all over again, dancing among the trees, greeting Caspian, healing Reepicheep. I was almost frightened to see myself honored like that, as though I were some great hero and not just Lucy. I sought for the scenes of the Stone Table so I could concentrate on Aslan.

I knew that finding him would calm me down, and I began my prayer. "Aslan," I said, "Please help us be happy again. Please help me find peace. I'm so grateful to still be here in Narnia, but everything feels so out of sorts. Please help me find a way to make it better again." I wanted to ask that we go back to the way we were, but even I wasn't fool enough to think that would happen.

I looked at the glass image of Susan next to Aslan, and I started to miss her awfully. When we were queens I was so close with Susan. We confided in each other. I could tell her all the silly things that Edmund would only laugh at me for, and she understood. She also understood what it was to be a girl, and that was nice too. I stood up and reached out to touch her image when Caspian said behind me "Do you like them—the new windows?"

"They're strange," I answered. I went back to kneeling.

"We didn't know what to do with the windows. Edmund didn't specify anything on the plans, and by the time the builders saw the specifications for what he had labeled 'Lucy's Chapel' you were long gone. One of them suggested we dedicate it to you, so that's what we did."

I blushed. "I'm not used to having anything dedicated to me. Not like this."

He knelt beside me. "Now that can't be true. I know that you and your brothers and sister were very much honored in your own time as well as now. But I'll tell you something. I think these windows are beautiful, but they aren't quite you. The images look like you but lack your spirit. There was something about you the artists couldn't capture."

I didn't know what to say. I saw that Caspian was just talking, though. He didn't really need an answer. We lapsed into a comfortable silence for a minute, until he said "I'm glad we can still be quiet together like this. I was worried it was all getting spoiled."

I threw my arms around his neck impulsively. "You feel that way too! Oh, Caspian, I was so worried something had happened to us!"

"Something has," he said thoughtfully, "But I don't think everything has to change."

His words were vague, but when I examined his eyes I started to understand. I was trembling on the inside, scared and happy and nervous all at once. Was he right? Could we still talk like always and hold hands and understand each other if he…and I…?

He shook his head as if to clear it and smiled. His smile is wonderful; he looks like a little boy on Christmas when he smiles enough to show his dimples. "I nearly forgot I came in here to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"Dara and Drinian are back. Their ship is even now pulling into the dock."

I leapt up. "What? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Let's go!" I cried, pulling him up by the hand.

He laughed, but he ran with me every step of the way.

Our dinner that night was merrier than it had been in a long while. Dara and Drinian were full of sea stories and news, and as much as Renna tried to turn Caspian's attention to her, she was ignored.

Drinian had offered to spend Christmas with her family, who he had largely managed to charm in the end. Dara, however, preferred to spend Christmas in Narnia. "I wanted to see what it was like," she said.

"Oh, it will be lovely!" I assured her. "I'm helping Caspian plan the ball, and we'll decorate the whole hall and the fauns—"

"Caspian," Renna asked plaintively, "Why didn't you ask me to help with the ball?"

Caspian tried to keep his face polite. "Well, Lucy is an ancient queen of Narnia. She knows all the old customs I want to revive. Do you?"

"No," Renna said bitterly, and Edmund had to hide his face in his napkin to keep from laughing out loud.

"Did you enjoy the trip?" I asked, deciding a change of subject was in order.

Dara smiled. "Lucky Drinian, that he married a girl who loves being aboard ship! I thought it was all lovely, even when it began to get cold."

"I love it, too," I began. "On the Dawn Treader I would spend half the night on deck looking up at the stars and—"

"How could you bear the cold and the wet? I think it awful," Renna interrupted again. "Leave the traveling to the men—I would rather stay at home."

"Not me," I said. "There are so many things to see and experience out there I would go to the end of the world ten times over."

"Cheers to that, Lucy!" Caspian cried with a grin. He raised his glass to me and said, "Do you remember the last seas, beyond Ramandu's Island?"

"We named all the constellations," I said.

"I remember you taught them to me on the way back," Drinian said. "The Horn, the Cordial, the Sword…"

"The Broken Wand," Caspian and I said at the same time, and we laughed.

"I confess I am jealous!" Dara said, looking at us with merry eyes. "Drinian, we must have some adventures of our own so I have some stories to tell."

Caspian twirled his goblet thoughtfully. "Drinian, you are lucky. I have often thought that when I marry I would like a partner, someone who can…who can…" he waved his hands, at a loss for words.

I knew what he meant, so I filled the gap since it was plain that he wanted to make himself understood. "Someone who can take the journey with you, who would be by your side through everything."

Edmund's head snapped up, and he looked at me hard. Eustace's head was down, but he was grinning at his potatoes. Meanwhile, Caspian said softly, "Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

I gave him a smile which I meant to say "Some things have not changed at all." He understood; I could tell by the look in his eyes. A delicious feeling as though I'd just swallowed something warm started to spread through me. The feeling lasted until Renna gave a little cough. I broke my gaze with Caspian and saw that she was looking at me with undisguised hatred. Her face was so venomous I recoiled a little.

After that exchange she stopped trying to get Caspian's attention and focused all her energy directing her loathing toward me. I don't know that I could claim to be universally loved, but I had certainly never been on the receiving end of such malice, either. She troubled me so much I couldn't enjoy the rest of my meal, and I excused myself as soon as I could.

I went to the sitting room where I knew I would be free to wring my hands and pace until the others had finished. I had just finished my second circuit of the room and was trying to worry away the memory of Renna's hateful look when Dara slipped into the room.

"Lucy, are you alright? You left the table so quickly."

"I'm fine," I said vaguely.

"That complete cow!" Dara cried. "What business has she got looking at you like that?"

I blushed, too embarrassed to tell her the reason. Dara plunged forward anyway.

"Honestly! Just because she so obviously wants Caspian and he so obviously has eyes for you—"

"Dara, don't," I interrupted. "You don't know, and it's best not to speculate on such things."

Dara laughed. "Speculate! Lucy, dear, surely you can't be that blind. Caspian's feeling for you are written plainly in his face. He loves you."

I covered my cheeks with my hands to cool them. My fingers were cold and my cheeks were hot: bad symptoms of the start of an illness. "Don't! Oh, why do we have to think about this at all? Caspian and I used to have such good times together and we never worried about anything. Then Renna came and there was all this talk of love and now everything's rotten!"

"Fine, blame me!" Renna screeched from the doorway. She was so pale all her freckles stood out on her face. "I knew you would!"

"Renna, I don't blame you," I began, but stopped. That wasn't true. "No, I do, and I should. I'm sorry. It's really not your fault."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You want me to forgive you, and I won't do it. I know how much you need to be liked. It's why you play at all their boy's games. Well I'll tell you something, Lucy. I don't like you. I never did, and I never will."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Dara cried stoutly.

"I'll talk to her any way I want! I'm crown princess of Galma. What are you but the daughter of a petty Terebinthian noble and the wife of a sea captain. Who are you to talk to me?"

"Renna, that's not fair or true," I protested. "Dara's family is very ancient, and Drinian is one of Narnia's most loyal lords and one of Caspian's most trusted friends. Surely you know that." Dara squeezed my hand.

"Now we get to the truth of it, don't we?" Renna demanded, rounding on me. You know Caspian and I don't. He loves you and not me. That's the way of things, isn't it? I'll tell you why I hate you so much. You can make all these claims to Caspian but you cannot say you love him in return. He is noble, he is good, and he is giving, so he wastes his love. I hate you because you're going to make him horribly unhappy, when I could give him a good life. You're standing in the way of everyone's happiness."

I was terrified she was right. What if I did make Caspian miserable? I rushed from the room in tears and nearly ran into Eustace in the doorway. As I fled down the hall I heard him say "Now, if I was a perfect beast at first and I still didn't manage to make Lucy cry, what does it saw about you that you did?"

I felt a flash of gratitude for Eustace, but I still couldn't stop crying. I leaned against a pillar and tried to compose myself, but to little avail. All I could think was maybe Renna was right, maybe Caspian would be content with her. Maybe I would just hurt him. I was so lost in my thoughts I heard the footsteps only when it was too late to hide myself. I wondered who would find me blubbering in the hall like a child.

It was Caspian. "Lucy, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but I couldn't stop them. Caspian fished out his handkerchief and wiped them away for me. This was so nice of him I started to cry even harder.

"Oh! Hey…hey" he said. He pulled me close, and I cried into his shoulder. "What's happened? It can't be so bad as all that."

"Why did Renna have to come and spoil everything?" I sobbed. The more I tried to stop crying, the less I was able to control myself.

"She said something to you, didn't she? I saw the way she was looking at you at dinner. Lucy, you know better than to listen to her, don't you? She's a good person in her way, but she's very sour." He rubbed my back. "Don't pay attention to her. We all love you, and that's what's important."

I put my arms around him and gave him a squeeze. "It's okay," he said. "You can just cry it out. I'm here."

He made me feel so safe that I let go. I cried for all the things I'd been holding in since Renna came. He didn't try to make me stop because he understood the need to cry it out. He held me and he rubbed my back and he didn't say anything about the wet patch on his shoulder.

I never heard Edmund's footsteps. I only heard him say "Lucy, what happened?"

Caspian released me as if had suddenly become too hot to touch. "She was crying, and I…I didn't get the whole story, but apparently Renna said something."

Edmund was silent for a moment. Then he reached an arm around my shoulders and started to guide me down the hall. "Come on, let's get you to your room. We'll have some tea brought, and I'll call Dara and you two can have a proper chat."

I sniffed. "That's just what Susan would say."

"I know." He looked over his shoulder. "Caspian, after I get Lucy settled, I'd like to speak with you."

Caspian bowed his head, looking distinctly unsettled.

As soon as we were out of earshot I whispered to Edmund "You're not going to yell at him, are you?"

"No," he replied slowly. "There's merely something I want to discuss with him."

His answer was vague, but his thoughtful done was reassuring, so I said no more. I wondered only briefly what it might be, but I couldn't bear the thought of any more serious conversations, so I stopped speculating. In a few minutes I was installed with the tea and Dara came in.

"Well! That was quite the scene."

"What happened?" I asked her.

"That cow. That complete cow," she said vehemently. She balled up her fists. "But let's not let her upset us anymore, eh? I'll tell you that Eustace is a hero and Caspian ought to knight him for his loyalty, and then we'll have some tea and say no more about it."

I was very pleased to hear someone speak well of Eustace since he so rarely gets any praise. I poured some tea and asked her how Drinian managed to charm her relatives. She told me all her stories, and we talked of plans for Christmas until we were both cozy and drowsy. Then she went into her room and I curled up under the blankets and went to sleep.

The next day we started decorating the castle, beginning with the Great Hall. Eustace supervised the transportation of flowers from the greenhouses, while I made garlands with Dara and brought them to Caspian, who hung them. He was especially merry, and hummed while he worked. In the far corner, Edmund was teaching carols to a choir of young fauns with a very grave but somewhat faraway expression.

Dara leaned over and whispered to me, "Really, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Lucy, but Caspian is so handsome and charming today."

I looked at him as he shared a joke with one of the castle guards. He laughed deeply, and it echoed through the hall. I felt a glow of pride, as though I had something to do with his charm. "He is," I agreed.

"Lucy," she said gently but seriously, "You're sure you don't love him?"

I blushed deeply and paid very close attention to the arrangement of my garland. "I don't know," I said. "How could I know? I've never been in love. I've only seen people in love, and that's not the same."

She reached out and covered my hand with hers. "You'll know," she said with such surety that I believed her.

Still I was glad when I saw Caspian looking about for a hammer. I got up to deliver the tool to him, which he accepted with a smile and a wink.

I lingered at the foot of the ladder for a moment. "You're very cheerful today," I remarked.

"Well," he said, reaching to pound the garland into place "There's a lot to be cheerful about, isn't there? It's almost Christmas, and Drinian and Dara are back…" he trailed off as he made adjustments.

"Has your tunic dried from last night?" I asked him. I couldn't help but blush a little. It occurred to me that Susan was always so cool and even with her suitors, while I seemed to have no control over my bashfulness. Then I realized that I was comparing me and Caspian to Susan and her suitors, and I blushed even harder.

Meanwhile, Caspian was grinning at me, but his eyes were soft. "Quite," he said. Then he became a little more brisk. "Tell me, is this even?"

I stood underneath to examine, and as I did so I heard an eruption of giggles from Edmund's corner.

"Tumnus," Edmund admonished a very young faun, "All your prodigious talent will not help you Christmas Eve if you do not know the words. You have been giving Peter a bow and horn and Susan a sword and shield all morning. I would think you might benefit from being more attentive."

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," young Tumnus piped up, "But Queen Lucy's standing under the mistletoe!"

Edmund looked over his shoulder and called casually "Caspian, I think you'd better kiss my sister so I can get on with my rehearsal."

My heart stopped as Caspian leapt down from the ladder and stood in front of me. _Is he really going to kiss me now?_ If I used Narnian time, I hadn't been kissed in over a thousand years, and then I had never really been kissed. Not a kiss like I imagined Dara and Drinian shared.

Caspian was repressing a grin. I could tell because he dimples were showing. He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Queen Lucy," he said in a lovely rich, soft voice.

As for me, I was so unsettled I could hardly smile in reply. What did it mean that I was disappointed he didn't actually kiss me? I was surprised I still had the sense enough to go back to working with Dara.

She too gave me a look of suppressed mirth. "Don't tell me you don't know," she said.

I looked over to where Caspian was making final adjustments to the mistletoe and decided I still didn't. Wanting to be kissed was nice in its own way, but romance was proving to ruin everything, and I didn't want what I had with Caspian to be ruined. And then I wondered if Renna was right. What if I made him unhappy? Which would make him more unhappy—a faulty love or an unrequited one?

After dinner Dara went to spend some time with Drinian, so I coaxed Edmund out for a ride. We brought Eustace along, and they proved a marvelous distraction speculating on why the sun always seemed to set at the same time all year round. Edmund offered the theory that it was different on a flat world, which got Eustace wondering what the planet might look like from space. Neither of them mentioned romance, and I managed to banish all thoughts of it from my mind until I heard the sound of trotting hooves and, as an accompaniment, Caspian and Renna's voices. I was a little betrayed that she should go riding with her after the night before, but I reasoned that he didn't know the whole story, and even if he did he was required to be kind to her anyway both because of his position and his nature.

They joined our circle and we explained the discussion to them. I noticed Renna was keeping very close to Caspian and ignoring me. _If he were courting me_, I told myself, _I would never behave like that. I'd know he wouldn't like it._

Renna frowned when presented with the speculation. "I don't understand any of this," she complained.

"My friends come from a round world," Caspian explained. "Can you imagine? They say it's not exciting, but I can't imagine that's true. Didn't you hear stories about the round worlds when you were little?"

"Yes," Renna sniffed, "but I never liked them much."

Eustace started to describe England to her. He made much of the cinema and radio and airplanes, but as he talked I looked around at the open sky and the trees and decided this was certainly the place I most wanted to be. As I was looking around, I was surprised by a soft explosion of snow on my shoulder.

I whipped my head around and saw Caspian laughing. "Caught you dreaming, did I?" he asked, and tore off at a gallop.

I spurred my horse to follow him. Behind me I heard Renna cry "Caspian, you know I can't gallop! Do slow down!"

He didn't, and neither did I. All at once I stopped hearing his horse ahead of me, and then I saw that the tracks veered off into a little clearing. "We'll see who's best at this game," I murmured, and quietly dismounted and tethered my horse next to his. I could see his legs behind his horse as I bent to scoop up some snow.

I leapt out from behind his horse and we both launched our snowballs at the same moment. They exploded against each other. We started laughing, and it felt so good to laugh after all the tension that I kept laughing until my sides ached and I had to lean on Caspian for support. He was a poor pillar, though, as he was rocking with mirth himself.

"How is it that you make me so merry?" he wondered. "I am never this happy with Renna."

"But you are not unhappy," I observed.

"No, I can't say that I'm unhappy exactly."

"I could make you unhappy," I said.

"That's not possible."

"You really don't think so?" I asked.

He saw what I meant and he blanched a little.

I don't know what possessed me to be so forthright. Perhaps I was sick of all the games. I looked him right in the eyes and said "Caspian, is it true? Do you love me?"

He didn't blink. "Yes. I love you." He seemed pleased with the sound of it, so he said it again. "I love you, Lucy."

"But what if I said I didn't love you?"

He held me by the arms and searched my face. "I don't think that's true," he pronounced. I think maybe you're just not sure.

"How did you know?" I asked quietly, stepping just a little closer.

He put his arms around my waist, knitting his hands together at the small of my back. He looked not at me, but past me as he considered his answer. "It's not something you understand all at once," he said eventually. "I realized I loved you only after a long while of several symptoms. I found I wanted to be with you all the time; you grew more beautiful to me every day; I was amazed by you—all that you are and all you have done. I was never so happy as when I was with you. I thought about why, and I knew that I loved you."

This was so beautiful I didn't know what to say. I reached up and smoothed a stray lock of hair in place. I had moved closer still.

I knew from the his eyes that he was going to kiss me. They were very tender, but very bright, as if they were burning. I wanted him to very much. I could feel the heat of his body. He smelled delicious, like seawater and wild heather and something more elemental and more exciting. I wanted him to kiss me, but I was terrified for the moment when he did. My heart was beating too fast, and that made me feel a little faint.

Then all at once he was kissing me. He closed all the space between us and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. Then there was his mouth. His mouth was soft, and the taste of it was like mead: heady and strong and sweet. The hair on his upper lip was growing in, and it prickled me a little.

When the kiss was over and he pulled away, I looked at him and I shivered. "Oh!" I breathed.

He seemed just as amazed as me. He searched my whole face with his eyes, and I noticed that he was trembling too. He opened his mouth to say something, but Eustace spoke instead.

"Well! We'll just meet you at the castle, shall we?" he declared in an over-bright voice. Caspian and I both turned to see him and Edmund and Renna staring at us. Eustace pulled Edmund around. Edmund looked at me hard just a moment before turning to follow them.

"Edmund!" I cried. He didn't come back, though, and I wrenched away from Caspian. "Edmund!" I had been a sweet kind of nervous, but now the fluttering in my stomach was hollow. I couldn't bear his disapproval. I ran to the horses and started to untether mine, but the reins got twisted. "Come on," I hissed in frustration.

"Lucy," Caspian said, "Don't go like this."

"I have to! I couldn't bear Edmund thinking of me like that. I don't know if you can understand—" I succeeded in unknotting the reins.

"I understand," he said softly.

I swung up onto the horse and looked down at him. "Then I have to go." I turned and trotted back toward the castle. I had to find Edmund. I tried to focus on this, and this alone, because I didn't know what I would say to him when I did catch up with him, and if I thought back to the kiss that made me shiver, and that shiver made me want to hide my face for shame.

I never caught up with Edmund. I didn't find them on the way, and when I searched the castle he wasn't anywhere. At last I ran into Dara, who came out of her chambers.

"Lucy! Are you alright? You look awful!"

"Oh Dara!" I cried.

"Come inside and tell me what happened," she said, pulling me in. She settled me next to her on a sofa, and I buried my head in her lap. "Lucy, dear! Tell me what's wrong."

"It's awful! Caspian kissed me, and I wanted him to, or I thought I did—"

"Wait, he kissed you?"

"Yes, but Edmund caught us and now I don't know what he thinks. What if he's mad? What if he disapproves? This is awful."

"Lucy! Lucy, shh," she said, stroking my hair. She called over a servant and said "Find King Edmund and bring him here, please. Tell him his sister needs him."

The servant departed, and she bent over me. "Now dear, tell me about it."

"What can I say? This is all terrible."

"Now I can't believe that's true."

"No," I said, sitting up. "It's not, and that's the worst part. I wanted him to kiss me, and when he did…Dara, I think I love him. But what will Edmund think?"

"Shh. Have some tea. We'll know soon enough. In the meantime, you must calm down." She unfastened my cloak and poured me a cup of tea. I was sipping anxiously when Edmund came in.

"Lucy? What did you need me for?"

I got up, but I couldn't look him in the eyes. "Edmund, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? For kissing Caspian?"

I nodded miserably.

He knitted his brows together and pursed his lips and said "There's nothing to be sorry for. I already knew. He's been waiting, and when I saw you together the other night, the way he took care of you when you were upset…well, I knew there was no point in holding it off."

I looked up at him. "Then you don't mind?"

He did something he rarely does. He hugged me. "No, I don't mind. Be happy with him. I just want you to be happy." He stepped back and said, "Now if that's all sorted out, I'm going to go back to my study. I have to start thinking about what we're going to say to Galma." He smiled quickly and left.

I turned to Dara half amazed. "You see?" she cried. "This is all working out beautifully! Only—"

"Only what?"

"Do you love him?"

I thought about it. I thought about his kiss and his dimples and the way we understood each other. I thought about what he said to me, and how he was so sure even when I was not. "I—I might."

She smiled. "I thought you might."

I left her and went to my room. I tried to read a little bit, but I kept thinking about Caspian. I didn't know how I could talk to him again after that kiss, or how I could face him after running away. Then I started to worry that love would change everything and we couldn't be together like we were before. I chewed my lip nervously. I wanted to see him and yet I didn't. I thought it might be nice if I could make myself invisible so I could be around him, but he wouldn't have to see me.

There was a knock at my door. I opened it and Caspian was there, and I couldn't talk or even remember to invite him in. "Did you talk to Edmund?" he asked.

I nodded.

"He's alright with it, isn't he," this was a statement more than a question.

"You knew?" I squeaked.

He gave me a lopsided smile and scratched the back of his head. "I never would have kissed you if Edmund hadn't said it was alright. He's been guarding you so carefully since we were on the Dawn Treader."

"That long?" I breathed. "Caspian, you can't have been in love with me since then. I was a girl! I'm still a girl."

The only explanation he gave me was a shrug.

"And you've really been waiting all this time?"

He nodded, and his eyes were very clear and very green.

"Caspian," I whispered, winding my arms around his neck.

He pulled me close and he buried his face in my neck. This tickled me with a thrill that ran down my spine. "I've waited for you to say my name like that," he murmured in my ear. Then he kissed me again, and it was just as wonderful though less disorienting than the first time.

"And we can be like we've always been?" I asked while he still held me close. "We can talk as we always have and sit together under the stars?"

"Rather," he said, and he grinned so that his dimples showed. I was amazed that I could make anyone so happy, and more amazed still that seeing him smile like that could make me so happy.

* * *

_A/N: There you have it! Long and fluffy, but I suppose that makes a nice change from the angst. Besides, I couldn't keep Caspian and Lucy apart for much longer. They have so much to do together. I didn't give this chapter the careful going over I usually do because this chapter has been long overdue. So here it is, and if you have any constructive criticism, lay it on me._  



	7. Tread Lightly

_Tread Lightly_

_(Edmund)_

I saw them kiss, and so their happily ever after began. I knew from the moment I saw them together that they had found it. When Peter was chasing after Rhiannon and Susan was deciding between suitors and I was searching for something I could never quite understand, Lucy was waiting. Now I saw that Aslan had rewarded her patience. I didn't think she knew yet, and I was fairly certain Caspian couldn't quite fathom the depth of his feelings, but I could see Lucy had what the rest of us were only grasping for. Perhaps Peter came closest, but his love didn't stick.

Then, when I was about to turn to my study for a night of cold rumination, Dara's servant came to say that Lucy needed me. I wondered how she could need me now of all moments, and I followed to find Lucy not in Caspian's company, but in Dara's. When she told me she was worried that _I_ wouldn't approve I was so touched I had to hug her. Anyone else would have become instantly absorbed, but she was worried about me. What's more, after I had reassured her I ran into Caspian, who was looking for me.

"Did you talk to Lucy? She's in a state worried about what you might say," he said with a frown.

I laughed. "I can't see why you both are so concerned about me right now. Oughtn't you to be reciting sonnets to each other by moonlight or something?"

"Well, you know Lucy…"

I shook my head. "I talked to her—she's fine. Go to her. I can hardly believe you waited as long as you did to do anything."

Caspian looked at the ground. "Having the permission to say something is one thing. Actually saying it is another. I'm a warrior and a king; I don't have much practice with declarations of love."

This made me like Caspian all the better, particularly because it sounded like something Peter would say. I left him in the hallway, smiling to myself as I returned to my study. _Really there couldn't be anyone better for Lucy. If Peter were here, he would have to agree._

Of course, that left us with the problem of Galma, but as I settled myself in the study, I resolved that this would not be a problem. Peter and I had decided ages before that when Susan and Lucy chose worthy suitors we would defend their right to be happy at all costs. Wensted could bluster and Renna could whine, but I would not cede Lucy's happiness to them. _Well, Peter would certainly be proud of me now. That's just what he would say, isn't it?_

I went to Caspian's chambers the next morning before breakfast. "So," I asked him, "Is it happily ever after now?"

He grinned the smile that Lucy told me once reminded her of a little boy. "Edmund, thank you," he said, and he embraced me.

"Alright!" I cried with a laugh. "You understand why I made you wait?"

He nodded. "I just don't understand why you gave in all of a sudden. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. But I thought you were resolved—not until she was eighteen."

"I was. I suppose you have Eustace to thank. He's not altogether stupid; he saw which was the wind was blowing between you two. And he saw what I could not—that Lucy was falling in love with you. I didn't want to believe it was so soon, but she couldn't help it." I paused, and frowned a little. "You understand that Lucy's happiness is more important to me than anything."

"Yes—me too," he said fervently.

"Well then, I couldn't very well let her be unhappy for no reason. I saw that you could take care of her. I knew that she loved you. Knowing that, the decision was simple."

"Edmund, if I could only tell you how—"

I held up my hand. "That's all very well, but you do realize that we've got some more unpleasant things to do. We must be clear with Renna. And of course, her father will be returning before the new year."

Caspian knit his brows together. "Yes, I suppose we must sit down with her. We'll do that after breakfast; there's no point in waiting." He looked at me with troubled eyes. "Do you suppose she really loved me? I never wanted to hurt her."

"I cannot claim to know her heart," I said evasively. Frankly I didn't care whether she did or not; I was sick of her peevish nature and constant superior sniffing.

After breakfast Caspian and I settled ourselves in chambers, and I sent the servant to call for Renna. The door opened far sooner than I expected, but it revealed Lucy. "You're going to tell her, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said bluntly, while Caspian demurred. "Lucy, dear, you don't want to be here."

She frowned. "That's nonsense, Caspian. If you take Edmund into chambers, you take me. I am an ancient Queen of this country."

"But—"

"What, now that you love me you're going to cloister me? You know me better than that. I stay. Not as your—lover, but as Queen."

Caspian was sufficiently cowed by this speech, and I chuckled. There were many things about this new pair that were amusing: Lucy's old assertiveness that she used so often with Peter and Susan and me, her use of the word "lover" as if she really knew something about it. I could see these two were as yet children in that respect, but I thought their innocence was charming.

Lucy settled herself into a chair without any further ado, and we sat for a few minutes staring at each other. None of us spoke, but I'm fairly certain we were all wondering how Renna would react. The silence grew, and Caspian and Lucy's discomfort became more protracted. Privately I was glad to dispatch with Renna, and while I had every intention of doing so diplomatically, I was very pleased to rid the castle of her pretensions and her arrogance. _Eustace can feel sorry for her all she wants, but I have little sympathy for someone who is so blatantly manipulative._ Caspian and Lucy, of course, were tender-hearted individuals, and though I knew Caspian in particular had had enough of Renna he hated to be the reason for anyone's misery. Lucy just hated to see anyone in pain. At length she murmured "I thought it would be more like a dream than this."

Caspian redeemed himself from his earlier presumptions by taking her hand and saying "This is just to remind us we're not dreaming."

She gave him such a smile that in that moment I thought her just as pretty as Susan. Caspian was enchanted, naturally, and Renna unfortunately chose this moment to enter the room. I got to my feet and Caspian, seeing my movement out of the corner of his eye, followed suit.

She curtseyed. "My lords—and lady," she said squinting suspiciously, "You have called me to chambers. Why?"

Caspian cleared his throat. "Renna, you'd better have a seat." He gestured to the only open chair at the table.

"But why is Lord Eustace not here?" she demurred, walking over. "Is he not your kinsman? Should he not be included in council?"

"This is a matter for the monarchs," I replied directly. I was not going to let her marshal allies or play on Caspian's sympathies. "Please, sit."

"Would you care for some tea?" Lucy asked hospitably, though her face was anxious.

Renna merely glared at her.

"We have called you here this morning to discuss the purpose of your visit," I said, cutting through this exchange.

She swallowed and looked so nervous I actually did feel a little sorry for her then. She grew so pale that all the freckles stood out on her cheeks in relief.

I thought it best to get it over with as quickly as possible. "As you well know, you have been a guest of the Narnian court—" I began, but Caspian cut across me.

"Renna, you know why you're here. We all know." He shot me a significant look. "You and I have spent the past months getting to know each other."

"Yes," she said slowly.

"I respect you too much to be anything less than honest with you. You're a wonderful person, but I cannot marry you. My heart belongs to another."

Here Renna made a last ditch effort. She reached out and took Caspian's hand. "Are you sure? We could get on very well together, Caspian, and it would be so good not only for ourselves, but for our nations."

I noticed the corners of Lucy's mouth tighten, but she remained otherwise impassive. Caspian had the grace not to look at her, which I admired him for. "I'm quite sure, Renna," he said gently but very definitely.

Instantly Renna withdrew her hand and sat up in her chair. She turned to Lucy with a look of cold fury. "You did this! This is your fault!"

"I didn't do anything!" Lucy protested.

"You did it just so I couldn't have him. You didn't love him before. I don't even think you love him now, you just don't want me to have him. Else why would you have waited so long? Why not have shown jealousy? Why not have spoken to Caspian when you knew that my betrothal to him was proposed? You are merely getting back at me for the other night." Renna's chest rose and fell deeply with her words. She was taking long breaths so as not to cry.

"It is not in my sister's nature to show jealousy," I said.

"Supposing you are right—and I think you give your sister too much credit, King Edmund—why not have said something to Caspian before? I know that you didn't love him when I came."

Her foolish trick worked. Now Caspian's eyes were trained on Lucy, searching her face for an answer. Lucy looked between them. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I didn't know how I felt."

"Is that really love, then? Wouldn't you have known all along?" I nearly got up and boxed her ear, but I felt Peter behind me, shaking his head. Still, that Caspian listened to her, that he doubted Lucy—it was enough to make me ignore all the lessons I had taught myself in keeping my temper. Meanwhile, Renna seized her moment and turned to Caspian. "Perhaps you do not love me, but I can make you happy. Do not trust her. Even if she deigns to stay with you, could she not be torn from you at any moment? I have been here long enough to hear all the stories of her visits to this world, her abrupt departures. Wouldn't you do better to stay with someone who can give you a lifetime instead of a few fleeting moments?"

Now I was closer to punching Caspian. He knew we had no choice in when we stayed or went, and yet he looked as though Lucy really might consider abandoning him. He said nothing and stared at the table with troubled eyes and a partially open mouth, like a slackjawed idiot. I knew the wounded look on Lucy's face without even so much as glancing at her, and I surmised that she was probably crying. "Caspian!" Lucy said, and now I did look at her, and so did Caspian. There were tears running down her cheeks.

He asked the foolish question with his eyes. "I wouldn't ever leave if I could help it," she said. "I have to obey Aslan."

"And what if he calls you tomorrow?" Caspian asked.

"What if he does?" I asked, finally able to check myself no longer. "I thought you would have waited half a lifetime for a moment with Lucy, or so you said in your suits to me for the past three years."

Lucy got up and knelt before him. She reached out to touch his cheek. "I can't make any promises, but I think I will be here for awhile. Don't give up on me just yet."

"I'm a fool," Caspian breathed, and he would have kissed her had not Renna said sharply "Three years? That well predates my arrival here."

The lovers came back to themselves. Lucy returned to her seat and I nearly smacked myself on the forehead. In my anger at Caspian I had revealed the one thing I wasn't supposed to tell. Caspian shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You lied to me," Renna pressed. "You let me make a fool of myself, thinking I had some chance at happiness. You spent your hours with me, courting me—"

"I didn't, Renna. I was only trying to be kind," Caspian rushed to defend himself.

"Your kindness is cruel, though. You used your charm. You deceived a lady, and if that is how a knight of Narnia behaves, I confess I do not think well of your customs of chivalry."

Her eloquence checked my anger a little. _She is no fool. She has her father's sharp eye, and in all their hours together she has spotted Caspian's weaknesses. She had us all tricked with her simpering loquaciousness. Damn! I was watching Caspian; I should have been watching Renna._

She went for the final blow. "Did your High King set this precedent of manner?"

Lucy and Caspian protested at once. "Don't talk about Peter that way," she said fiercely. He was quieter. "The High King was a model of honor, and if I have not lived up to his standard, that is my own fault."

Now she turned her sharp eyes to me. "And you, King Edmund? Don't you want to defend your peerless brother?"

"Do not trick us by using Peter. I can see what you are doing. Let us be plain, and open. Caspian and Lucy are feeling people, and you're using that against us. I have no such sympathies."

"No, I don't suppose you do." When she squinted like that, her eyes were beady. "You aren't a very feeling person, or else you would have considered me when making your deals with my father." I didn't take her bait and answer, but she went on anyway. "If you knew Caspian was in love with Lucy, why did you let me stay on? Why didn't you refuse him outright?"

"His suit was not open. It would look like an insult."

"So it is unacceptable to insult Galma, but you can keep me here as a worthless toy in your diplomatic schemes? If you knew, the courteous thing to do, the right thing to do would be to find a way to refuse my father. Surely with your skill, your renowned judgment, you could have found a way? Instead, you let me stay on believing that I might well be married to a fine and handsome king, a man beyond my wildest dreams. Surely your brother would say it's improper to use a lady in this way, if he is the model of honor Caspian says. You are an unfeeling person who treats people as pawns. What will you do when you find out all your maneuvering was for naught? When my father arrives, he will be more livid than before. All you have done is allowed the king to indulge his dalliances."

I reeled a little. This was a sharp blow, that I had saved nothing, that I had put Caspian and Lucy, and, though I hated her now, Renna through all of this when I could have said no at the start and simply gotten the same result. I tried to cast my mind back to Wensted's visit. _Why did I want to stall for time? Certainly I didn't think Caspian might grow to love Renna; he's loved Lucy for so long. _I remembered Wensted's visit and his sharpness, all he knew of Narnia and our plans and our allies, and I started to feel sick.

"Renna, this is enough," Lucy said sternly. I looked to her at once; she never spoke like that. "What are you trying to do? Nothing you say will change things. Caspian loves me. I am sorry that you have been brought here for nothing, and I'm sorry that you've been hurt. That was never our intent. But he will not change his mind to make you feel better. Edmund will not force him to marry you; Narnia has never used marriage as a bargaining tool, and this began—and continues with—with my brothers. Stop now, and leave with a little grace. I beg of you."

Caspian's eyebrows shot up, and I think he would have given a low whistle had he not been seated at a table in chambers.

"So you presume to know Caspian's mind and heart? You are sure how he feels about me, even after all the hours we spent alone together? He's a man, you know, a man in the bloom of youth. You don't know what we did."

Caspian's jaw dropped and he moved to speak, but all he could make was a strangled sort of grunt. Lucy looked Renna directly in her eyes and said "I know Caspian. I know his mind and his heart. Even if I didn't, I have faith in him, and I know that he would never betray me in that way. You cannot convince me to doubt. No one ever has."

Finally Renna seemed to realize that nothing would change. She squeezed her eyes shut to will away the tears and she got up. "My father arrives in the New Year. We shall see what he has to say about my poor treatment at the Narnian court. In the meantime, I cannot stay in this castle another minute."

"We will provide you with a place to stay," Caspian answered. "I will send someone to take you there this afternoon."

Renna gave him one long, disdainful look and swept out of the room. I watched after her a moment thinking that Lucy had begged her to leave with grace, but she had so little to start with this was impossible. When I turned back to them to share this thought, Caspian had caught Lucy in his arms. He seemed unable to speak his mind, but Lucy smiled up at him anyway. "I wasn't going to let her poison my mind. I know you, Caspian. She, apparently, does not."

He kissed her then. I knew this was no longer a place for me, so I went to the Chamber of Instruments. I needed to do something with my hands.

After Renna left in her small huff, Lucy's laugh was the sound that prevailed throughout the castle that Christmas. She was so happy, and she was full of nothing but warmth and charity for everyone. I found it easy to enjoy the preparations even with a wayward choir to conduct, because she infected everyone with such mirth. That has always been Lucy's role. Susan soothed and Lucy brought joy, and somewhere along the way Peter and I had made the tacit agreement that we would fight with our lives so they could be free to do that. Now Peter was gone, but I watched Caspian closely and I began to wonder if I couldn't make the same sort of agreement with him.

Whenever his eyes alighted on Lucy, his whole face started to glow. I had been so busy fending him off I never realized just how much he loved her. I didn't let myself because I didn't want to be swayed by my friendship. But now that I no longer had to blind myself to that I saw how he admired her as well as loved her. He seemed content just to have permission to feel openly. When Susan or Peter or I had relationships, we sought out the corners and darker passages of the castle. Lucy and Caspian rarely cloistered themselves. They spent many hours in the company of others, either Eustace and me, or Drinian and Dara, or some courtier or another, and they never seemed to yearn to be alone. If I went looking for Lucy, it wasn't a given that I would find her in Caspian's company. I wondered at the balance of their relationship, but I couldn't help but ask myself when they would become consumed with each other.

There was one evening when I found them together. A couple of days before Christmas I dismissed the choir early and headed out to find out how my present for Lucy was coming along. I had been digging through the treasure room one afternoon and had come across the necklace that Cor had given her when he paid his first state visit to Cair Paravel. The necklace was mostly intact, but the chain was broken and a couple of the jewels had been knocked out, so I had sent it to the dwarves of the castle to be mended. As I passed through the halls, I heard the bell-like sound of Lucy's laughter. A moment after, Caspian's laughter struck a harmonious chord, and I smiled to myself. I was rather surprised, though, when I turned a corner and came across them.

I had been walking quietly; they didn't hear. She was perched on his knee, dangling an ornament before him. "Caspian," she chided, "You aren't looking. You asked me to tell you all the stories of old Christmases, and when I show you the dent Aravis made in this star when she threw it at Cor, you don't pay attention. Look at the ornament."

Caspian smiled, and I have to say it was rather smarmy. "I'm looking at the ornament on my knee; she's far more distracting."

Lucy made a sound halfway between a laugh and an indignant gasp. She gave him a push and said with a merry mouth but fiery eyes "Do not call me an ornament again, sir!" She wasn't the type to yell, but there was a note to her voice which, though she tried to keep it light, showed she was very serious about not being called an ornament. I heartily agreed but hardly thought I needed to rush to Lucy's aid. Caspian flinched, and I knew why. I had been on the receiving end of one of Lucy's "playful" pushes before. When she was indignant, she could be fierce. He saw the look in her eyes and he bowed his head. Being Lucy, she was also forgiving. When she saw that Caspian was sufficiently contrite, she laughed and kissed his nose. "Now, listen like a good boy. After all, aren't these the stories that you yearned for as a child but Miraz forbade your nurse to tell you?"

He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Yes," he murmured, resting his head on her shoulder. It was then that she stroked his cheek along the jawline and kissed him.

It's not that I hadn't seen Lucy kiss anyone before. Even she had indulged in her share of flirtations during her reign. The slightest suggestion of any of his siblings and sex was enough to make Peter squirm, but I prided myself on taking a far more realistic view of the situation. I knew they all had desires, even Peter. Even Lucy, the innocent.

The trouble was that the kiss I witnessed was not a kiss of desire. He didn't move to possess her; she didn't cling to him. He gave her something in that kiss, but it wasn't anything definable or anything I could quantify in any practical way. I didn't understand how a kiss could be so deep and yet so innocent. He asked for nothing more than to hold her. She asked for nothing more than to be in his arms. _Maybe that's what love is then._

I didn't watch them anymore. I continued on my way, but the picture of them together stayed with me.

_I used to think I was jealous of Lucy. Who wouldn't be, when Caspian is so charming and warm. And, if I'm being frank, handsome. Now I'm seeing them together, though, and I realize it's not that I want Caspian. I'm jealous of him. Since we arrived on the Dawn Treader without Peter and Susan, we had to be everything to each other, Lucy and I. In the spirit of being honest, in this Narnian life she is my best friend. If she goes off and falls in love, where does that leave me? This would be the time to take a lover, since they usually help with that gnawing loneliness, but I really don't know what Caspian would say about my choices._ I sighed. _This is a bad sign. I'm growing as serious as Peter._

These thoughts stuck to me until Christmas morning. The night before had been the Christmas feast, and every one in Narnia showed up to sing and dance and eat. Eustace started out on mead with a bad first experience, but that Christmas Eve proved he had learned to make his peace with the drink, and he got into a drinking game with a bull because Peepiceek had said he couldn't hold his liquor. _I don't expect him up anytime soon._ The choir came together in the end, and everyone joined in the caroling till the Great Hall seemed to swell with the joyous sound.

Caspian was courteous as ever, offering dances to most of the noble women, but when he took Lucy in his arms for their first dance of the evening, all the assembled guests knew. I heard the murmurs all around me. The old Narnians were pleased, and I even heard Trufflehunter say "The Queen Lucy is a good match for him. It's only fitting, since he revived Old Narnia, that he has fallen in love with a Queen of the Golden Age."

Even the new Narnians were satisfied, at least, those that didn't have hopes of marrying off their daughters to the king. And then, even some of these shrugged and turned their eyes to me, which only cause me to smirk.

I expected to be quite alone in the breakfast room since it was still rather early, but when I entered Lucy beamed at me. "Merry Christmas, Edmund!" she cried, and she ran to kiss me on the cheek.

"What are you doing up?" I asked.

"I've been up for hours!" she answered, still beaming. "Who could sleep on Christmas morning?"

The corners of my mouth tugged upwards involuntarily. "Everyone else, apparently," I said.

She laughed. "I suppose we'll have to wait for them for breakfast," she sighed.

My stomach rumbled. "I suppose so. Can't we scrounge up something, though?"

She looked at me sidewise. "After all the food you ate last night? It's a wonder you're not fat." She pulled a package from the pile at the center of the table. "Here. Why don't you open your present? That ought to distract you."

I grinned and sat next to her as I started to undo the ribbons. She watched me eagerly. I unwrapped a gilt-stamped book which turned to be music for all the songs we had sung during our reign. All the lyrics and notes were written in very fine calligraphy, and the margins had extraordinary illuminations which either detailed what the song was about or the occasions on which we sang it. On every page I could see miniature pictures of Peter and Susan and Aslan. I turned the pages in wonder.

"It took me ever so long to have this finished. I've been working on it since we got back on the Dawn Treader. Do you remember when you sang the battle song on deck? That's what gave me the idea. When we got back I started writing down all the songs I remembered. Then I had to see if anyone remembered the tunes, and if they didn't, I had to find a musician who could transcribe the tune. _Then_ I could finally get the work done on all the illuminations."

"That's an awful lot of work for one book," I said dubiously, bending to examine one of the pages more closely.

She leaned over the table to peer at the book. "Don't you think it was worth it, though?"

"Yes," I said at once. "Thank you, Lucy."

She beamed at me. "I'm glad you like it."

"I ought to give you yours, I said, searching my pockets for the small package. "It didn't take three years, but there you are anyway."

She opened the box and gasped. "Oh, Edmund! Where did you find this?"

"I was in the treasure chamber one day and I saw it on the floor. I remember when Cor gave it to you."

"To thank us for the Defense of Anvard," she murmured, fingering the necklace. "Do you remember the battle?"

I snickered. "The wrath of Tash falls from above!"

She laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. "I shouldn't laugh, but oh! He looked so funny struggling on that hook."

"He looked even funnier as an ass," I retorted. Lucy gave me a reproving look, which was difficult as there was still mirth in her eyes. "Come on, Lu. I'm being kind to him considering what he would have done to Susan. Thank God she had the sense to see through him. I hate to think of what might have happened if she had consented to marry him. She would have been so miserable."

Lucy covered my hand with hers. "Is that why you were so worried about Caspian?"

"In a way. The major difference is that I don't see Caspian as an ass," I chuckled a little. "Still, he's got that temper, and he's so young in so many ways—"

"Goodness, Edmund! I'm not so besotted that I can't see his faults! I know he can have a bit of a temper and all that. He's not perfect, but I love him anyway."

"That's what I was afraid of. That you'd attach yourself to him too quickly."

She sighed and was quiet for a minute. Two little lines appeared across her forehead, like Peter gets when he's thinking. Finally she said "I think you're trying too hard to be like Peter."

"Really?"

"It's true," she pronounced. "When we were here before with Peter, you never stood in my way for anything. You argued with Peter that I should be able to ride to battle with the archers. You invited me to come on adventures. With Peter I always had to ask, sometimes beg." She lowered her eyes thoughtfully. "You and I, Ed, we've always gone on adventures together." She held up the locket. "We were together at the Defense of Anvard. We were together at the end of the world. We were the first two to discover Narnia." My cheeks started to grow hot, and I would have protested at this if Lucy had not pressed on. "The point is that I've had nearly all my real adventures with you. You know me by now. I'm brave and I'm strong." She came and sat next to me. "Don't you think that if Caspian had spoken to me when I was thirteen I would have told him to wait?"

I screwed up my mouth. "I suppose."

She laughed. "You see? You are trying to be like Peter. Have a little more faith in me. I've never let you down before. And besides, I don't want your protection. I need your love and support."

"You have that," I said, fiddling with my fork. "You're right. You _haven't_ let me down. You are brave. Aslan was right."

"What do you mean?"

"The night Dara and Drinian got married and Wensted came, Aslan appeared to me."

"Me too!" Lucy exclaimed. "He warned me about enemies of Narnia."

"He said something similar to me. But he reminded me that I need to put more faith and trust in you in order to conquer them. I should have done so all along. I'm sorry, Lu."

"It's alright. I understand in a way. But remember—"

She didn't even have to finish. "I'll remember," I promised her. As I did so, a little of the weight on my chest seemed to lift. I started to understand Peter a lot better. You take too much on and it weighs you down.

She got up and put her arms around me. "You're a good brother, Ed," she declared, planting a kiss on top of my forehead.

"Yes, well, there's no need to get all soppy about it," I replied, pushing her off. I looked up and saw Caspian hovering in the doorway. "Go and hug Caspian, will you? He likes it better than me.

Lucy dropped another kiss on my head as a parting blow and ran to Caspian, who grinned and opened his arms. I wished she hadn't gone to him quite so eagerly.

Soon after that Drinian and Dara came down, and even Eustace blundered into the room. There was an exchange of greetings and a few moments of frenzied unwrapping. The haul was pretty good: Caspian got me a new sword, dwarf-wrought, and Eustace managed to dig up a box of parts I needed to finish some repairs in the Chamber of Instruments. Most interesting, however, was Dara and Drinian's gift to Lucy. It was a small book bound in blue, and I recognized it at once as a romance. I thought it was a rather girly and therefore uninteresting gift until Lucy opened the cover and read the title "Ever Evermore: the romance of the High King."

"Do you mean--?" I began to ask, but Lucy had already turned the fly leaf and was reading the first lines:

"_In the Golden Age of Narnia, Peter was High King_

_Ever evermore remembered as High King over all Kings_

_Reigning from the glittering castle by the sea._

_From the East, with hair shot with all the colors of the setting sun_

_She left the gentle green slopes of our land_

_To come to him._

_Her name was Rhiannon…"_

Lucy paused in her reading and looked round at all of us with bright eyes, but her gaze rested on me. "Do you remember, Edmund?" I nodded. Peter's great love had turned him upside-down, but there was a tragic element to their relationship I knew Lucy was not considering. I watched her turn the pages slowly. Her eyes were glowing and she was smiling secretly. At last she understood the part of this tale which had eluded her.

Caspian drew his chair closer to Lucy. "I didn't know your brother had a lady fair," he said lightly, peering over the book.

"Didn't you?" Lucy asked. "She was Dara's ancestor—can't you tell? Dara's hair is—" she consulted her book "'Shot with all the fire of the setting sun.'"

Everyone laughed, and Dara blushed deeply. Drinian reached out a casual hand and stroked her hair. Caspian meanwhile was still interested in the tale. "He never spoke about it," he mused.

"Well that's not really his style, is it?" I commented.

Eustace shrugged, but Caspian frowned. "I don't see why not. I'm half in the mood to draw up royal proclamations declaring I love Queen Lucy. Why shouldn't he want to talk about it?"

Lucy laughed brightly. It was her bell-like laugh alright, but the toss of her head and the way she grazed Caspian's forearm lightly with her fingers was all Susan. I raised an eyebrow.

Caspian took her hand and contemplated it a moment. "I just can't understand. He didn't even try to find out about her when he came back. It seems to me—"

"Well, she'd been dead a thousand years by then. There's really no point—" Eustace observed with his mouth full.

"Stop," I muttered to him alone.

He ignored me and plunged ahead in his folly. "And I'd imagine he was feeling pretty guilty, disappearing like that so suddenly—that is, if he remembered her at all."

"Eustace," I warned again, but Caspian asked at the same moment "What do you mean?"

Of course Eustace can never leave a question unanswered, so he plunged forward. "Well, when we're here we forget that other place, don't we? You know, the world where we came from. Our lives here must fade away when we go back."

Caspian dropped Lucy's hand. "I see," he said in a dazed voice.

Lucy examined his face closely, and then she rose in one graceful movement and looked down at him with a frown. "Caspian, may I speak with you in the antechamber?"

Caspian knew at once he was in for something, and he blanched a little at Lucy's severe tone. She was indeed furious: she had gone very red and she marched before him with quick, clipped strides. He cast me an imploring look over his shoulder, but I merely shrugged. My job was not to coach him through managing Lucy.

She banged the door shut with such force that it rebounded a little, and we could hear some of her yelling. "You doubt me? …love you and will not leave you…playing right into Renna's tricks…" Here Caspian mumbled something which caused Lucy to shout at the top of her voice "And what does Eustace know about it? He's never returned from Narnia!" Caspian made another protest which caused Lucy to cry "I am not my brother! I remember. I hold on, even when it's painful to do so! And what do you know of what Peter has gone through? That you should ever doubt or question me, or my love—" she flung the door open and came toward us, her face flushed and her eyes tear-filled.

Caspian was two steps behind her. "Lucy, wait!" he cried, trying to catch her by the arm.

She shook him off. "Leave me alone."

Apparently he didn't need any coaching. He knew just what to do. He didn't leave her alone but trapped her in his arms and held her fast even when she tried to break free. Once he hand her still enough, he kissed her. She resisted, but only at first. When they were still very close, I saw him whisper to her "I don't doubt you. I couldn't. I doubt the world around us." Lucy wound her arms around his neck and whispered some comfort in his ear, for it caused him to smile.

"Come," he said gently. "Let's have some breakfast."

There was a banquet with all Caspian's most trusted friends and lords; Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and Patterwig and Glenstorm, but otherwise it was a quiet Christmas. Evening found us grouped in the sitting room before the fire while Lucy read her new book aloud, pausing frequently to add her own memories of the scene and pull out mine. Eustace lay on the hearth rug and Dara and Drinian were squished into one chair, while Caspian rested his head in Lucy's lap. At odd moments she would reach down and idly comb her fingers through his hair. As for me, I was sitting on an ottoman that was an island a little apart from everything, and I watched.

* * *

_A/N: Three brief things--first, the references to Rhiannon are of course born of Domlando Blonaghan's lovely story "Always and Never" which I'm still recommending if you haven't read it. Second, thanks to Andi Horton, who wisely asked some questions about all the diplomacy and what Wensted might say which helped direct this story in a very wonderful way. While I didn't address Wensted specifically in this chapter, never fear, you'll all know what happens. Also, to flyaway, who keeps giving me lovely reviews but who I have no other way of contacting: I'm seeing this story through to the end for sure, even if I do sort of have ADD at the moment with all the stories I've been writing._  



	8. The Lady or the Legend Part One

_The Lady or the Legend_

_(Caspian)_

Two days after Christmas I was standing on the terrace of the castle staring over the gray and choppy waters and thinking of the end of the world. Some days I wanted to be out on the open waters again, braving storms and dragons and all the wide unknown. Sometimes I wanted to throw down my crown and jump aboard the next ship to leave harbor and go wherever it was the wind took me. Lucy always gave me the impression that Susan was always afraid of the unknown, and that even Peter felt better with his feet on solid ground. Not me. I was meant for adventures where no one knew the ending, come what may. I rather thought Lucy and Edmund were the same.

I thought about Renna, who I had seen briefly at the Christmas ball, and I shook my head.

"What are you shaking your head about?" Eustace asked behind me.

"I'm just thinking about Renna," I sighed.

"What about her? I'd have thought she was gone completely from your mind."

I gave him a wry smile. "Just because I am in love does not mean I have no thought for others. I do not think my lady would have it so." I couldn't help being a little charmed at the thought of calling Lucy my lady. At last.

Eustace shrugged and leaned against the railing. "Alberta says that love is nothing more than a distraction."

"Alberta? You don't talk of her a lot these days," I commented.

"No, I guess I don't. I don't think about her that much." He looked at me. "Is that right, you think, to forget your own mother?"

"I can't remember mine," I offered.

"Hm. So what were you thinking about Renna?"

"Just that it's really a shame she got hurt, but she really wasn't the girl for me. I mean, even if I didn't have Lucy I couldn't have married her."

"Why not? She was alright. It's just her father that made her a little, well, peevish. I can understand that, though. She might have gotten better with time," Eustace said, faltering a little.

I laughed. "Why not! The question is more why would anyone think we'd be a good match. She has no spirit, no sense of adventure, no inspiration. You get the feeling that she couldn't tell an interesting story to save her life, that she's the kind of person who does well in her lessons only for the sake of showing off. She doesn't believe in much of anything or have any great passion, and when I compare her to Lucy…well, she just wilts."

"Of course she would!" Eustace cried, suddenly getting very red in the face "Everybody wilts compared to Lucy—hullo, what's that?" he asked, staring at the mouth of the harbor.

I leaned over the terrace and saw a galleon sliding in. I had a feeling I knew who it was, and of course when the ship got just a little closer they spread the flags. Naturally it was Galma, though I should have been happier even for Calormen.

"Already! I thought they wouldn't come till the New Year," I murmured in dismay, and tore off in the direction of Edmund's study with Eustace on my heels.

He was sitting there with Lucy poring over a book. "Galma's here," I said breathlessly.

"Already!" Lucy exclaimed. Then she screwed up her mouth. "Well, better sooner than later. It will be nice to have this over and done with." She got up and kissed my cheek.

Edmund sighed and closed his book. "Eustace, you'd better go send for her."

A few minutes later I was sitting on my throne tapping my foot and waiting for Wensted to come storming in. Lucy was sitting two seats away from me, and I really wished she'd dispense with tradition and sit in her sister's seat as it was next to mine. She looked remarkably calm as she watched the doors, and then she turned to me. "Caspian, we'll be fine," she assured me. "Edmund can tell you that Galma is no real threat to us. Wensted just talks big."

I gave her a rather strained smile. She was right, but I still hated the thought of having Wensted mad at me, just as I hated the idea of having Renna mad at me. When Wensted banged through the doors, however, he was all smiles. I knew instantly that Renna had not told him anything and the task had fallen to me. I greeted him as best I could, and Lucy slipped away to warn Edmund. Then I led the Galmians to chambers.

Edmund led Renna and Eustace in, and he raised his eyebrows to me. I merely nodded toward Wensted. Edmund saw exactly what I meant, and he set his face so that he looked completely impassive.

"Well met, King Edmund!" Wensted cried, stepping forward to grasp his forearm.

"Indeed," Edmund replied coolly. I took a moment to glance at Renna, and she was looking very nervous, twisting a lock of hair around her forefinger. She seemed to be pulling rather hard.

Wensted chuckled, and my stomach lurched when I thought he wouldn't be chuckling much in a moment. "Well, let's sit and talk, shall we? We can get the formalities out of the way and then celebrate."

I wanted to look at Lucy and get some reassurance from her, but I didn't dare. Instead, I settled for murmuring to Edmund as we took our seats "I don't think he's going to like this very much at all."

"Nor I," Edmund answered. "Look to Renna. I had thought she might be smug but even she looks rather grim."

"Still, there's nothing for it but this. I can't change my mind."

He looked at me and nodded. "I know it."

Wensted and his advisors had taken their seats, and Wensted himself was observing the room with a greedy expression I didn't like or trust. I knew without turning that next to me, Edmund was narrowing his eyes at our guest. "So," Wensted boomed, focusing on us now, "You speak for Caspian, King Edmund. Has he made his decision. You have had your time, and now I must know." He spoke as one who is sure of the answer he will receive.

Edmund drew in his breath. "Fear not, Wensted. We will give you your answer." Wensted raised his eyebrows in anticipation, and Edmund continued gravely. "We are sorry to inform you that we cannot accept your proposal. The offer was kind, but the match was not meant to be."

The first thing Wensted did was turn and box his daughter on the ear. "Fool! You can't even manage to be a little charming? I don't care if you're stupid, or lazy as you are, but you can't even manage to win the King over! The one thing I asked of you!"

I jumped up. "King Wensted, please! Compose yourself!"

Renna clutched her cheek and looked up at me with bitter, tear-filled eyes. "Now you defend me? What about your love, hm? Wouldn't she be upset by that?"

Edmund shook his head slowly, and for a split second I wondered what the cause of his dismay was. Then I felt rather than saw Wensted turn to me, his nostrils flared. "So, Caspian! You make a mockery of our crown by playing games with our daughter, courting her when you love another."

I should have known this was coming, but I was thrown nonetheless. Still, I marshaled myself. "I assure you I was playing no games," I returned. "I have never been less than forthright with Renna. If she chose to interpret my actions otherwise, I cannot be responsible for that."

Renna scowled, and Wensted scoffed. "And who is this wench you claim to love? Some scullery maid? Some harlot?"

My hand twitched toward my sword hilt. "Choose your words more carefully, your Majesty," I said.

"Your defense of her is most touching," Wensted said with a condescending smile. "Which leads me to believe I must be right. She is a cheap woman."

"Do not insult the Queen Lucy in this manner," I answered. Edmund stayed my hand, or else I might have drawn.

Wensted raised his eyebrows and turned now to Edmund. "Well played, King Edmund. You put your sister in my daughter's place. I knew you were famous for your diplomacy in your day, but I must confess I didn't think the Narnians would be quite so underhanded."

Edmund turned paler and his eyes sparked. He paused while finding a reply, and in this pause Lucy rose. "My good king," she said in a firm voice, "I assure you that no one played either myself or Renna as a hand of cards. What has happened between Caspian and I has come naturally, of our own choosing. That is how love is done in Narnia."

I turned to look at her. Her calm reminded me that I was Wensted's equal, a King with a country myself. I was annoyed that I let him condescend to me for even a moment. I turn to Wensted and spoke in a clear voice. "I am very sorry. I hope that we can negotiate a treaty between our nations, but we will not be united by marriage. Beyond my own desires, it would not be right to wed your daughter under such circumstances. She would be horribly unhappy."

Eustace was looking at Renna with pity in his eyes, and I distinctly heard him mutter "That's not too different from now, though."

Wensted sniffed. "We have no need of treaties with kings who play so false." He turned to his advisors. "Gather the princess' things. We sail this evening."

I nodded. Wensted gave the three of us one long look and stalked out of the room.

Edmund sighed. "That is hardly the last of him."

"Perhaps not," Lucy said, "But that matters little. If he comes with force or tries something else, we will face him."

I had been about to sink into worry, but her simple acceptance of whatever may come stopped me. We would face whatever came. We were strong enough. So Wensted and Renna passed out of thought, and the only thing I remembered clearly about her visit was the night she made Lucy cry and I held her, and Edmund gave me his blessing. The winter grew colder, and then the thaw began and everything started to melt into spring.

--------------------------------------

I remember clearly when it first happened. The four of us were going for a walk in the twilight. I followed Lucy, who preferred to dawdle on these walks, while Dara and Drinian went ahead down the path. I watched them go, and I saw Drinian reach out and place his hand on the small of Dara's back. He accompanied this with a smile for her, and his entire body expressed possession and desire at the same time. I was even more surprised by Dara, who seemed to understand this look and this gesture. She took a step closer to her husband and nudged him with her hips, giving him a coy smile which was really just an upturning of the very corners of her mouth. She knew what he was saying without any words, and the way her whole body bent towards him ever so slightly, I knew that she would not only give it to him, but that she wanted the same. I admired the mutual understanding they had about this as much as I envied the notion of sex itself. At that point, sex was still an abstract idea for me. I knew it was something I wanted, it was something I had once, a long time before Lucy came back into my life, but I couldn't seem to think of it as something real, something I could actually do. I turned my thoughts from Drinian and Dara and followed Lucy.

I always let her lead because she had a knack for finding something lovely wherever we were. She saw a world I could not, and I let her guide me to the small miracles of melting icicles and brown patches in the white snow which signified spring and the coming of the first flowers. Anyone else would have called that weather dreary, but Lucy rejoiced in it just like she rejoiced in everything.

We were standing together examining the faintest green tips at the end of a naked tree branch. I was standing behind Lucy, and I had rested my chin on her shoulder while she talked about spring. My arms were loose around her waist. The feeling stole over me quite suddenly. One moment I was listening to her talk, the next all I could think of doing was pressing my lips to her white neck, of pulling her whole body to me, of making her moan with pleasure. For a moment I was so overpowered that I moved my hands so I could trace the curve of her trim waist. I wanted to feel every curve of her body, but I didn't dare.

I didn't know if she knew what I was thinking. Sometimes she understands me all too well, and I didn't want this to be one of those times. How could I objectify her like that? That was how a smaller king treats his courtesans, not the way a knight treats a lady he loves and admires. Lucy was far more than some woman to bed and forget about. As much as I chided myself for these thoughts, they hounded me. I wondered what it might be like to kiss the plane of her back, to hold her breasts in my hands, to feel her underneath me. I knew this was why Edmund was so protective of her; he didn't want me to use her, and apparently that was all I could think about.

She had stopped talking, and she lapsed into a comfortable silence, leaning back against me. This was agony. I stood there tortured by my desire until Drinian and Dara came on the return circuit. We walked back to the castle together and bid each other goodnight at the entrance to the royal apartments. Lucy and I would go into the sitting room, and they were going to their bedroom. I stepped inside, resigning myself to a cold evening of playing chess with Eustace and watching Lucy from across the room, but I noticed she hadn't come with me. I went back into the passageway and saw that she was still there, staring at something. I followed her gaze and saw that she was watching Drinian and Dara, who were kissing passionately. He murmured something in her ear and she pressed her whole body to him.

I couldn't read the expression on Lucy's face, which was odd because usually I understood her. I touched her shoulder and she turned quickly. "Caspian!" she breathed, and her eyes were a little wider than usual.

What I wanted to do was sweep her into my arms and carry her off to my chambers. At the very least I wanted to kiss her the way Drinian was kissing Dara. I looked into her face and I saw the faintest twinge of the same desire there, but I also saw a certain trepidation. I felt this too, and it made me hesitate. I only said "Aren't you coming in?"

She shook herself, a little nonplussed. "Yes, of course." And so in we went, and I sat with Eustace while she curled up with her brother's romance, which she had already read three times over, and stared often at the fire.

Halfway through our game Edmund burst into the room, a little flushed and looking rather breathless. He glanced at the chessboard but a moment and said to Eustace "Guard your castle," and to me, with a nod at the few white pieces scattered across the chessboard, "You're so easy to beat because you never use your queen." Before either of us could reply he turned to Lucy and said "I need to talk to you."

Lucy closed her book and sat up at once, immediately attentive. "What is it, Ed?" she asked.

He sat down on the ottoman nearest her and bent his head to hers. They talked in such urgent whispers that Eustace and I abandoned all pretense of playing our game and watched them openly.

"He looks like something's up," Eustace said.

I nodded. "And Lucy looks awfully concerned herself."

After a good five minutes of this, Edmund sat back and said to Lucy "So you agree we've got to go?"

As she nodded, I was unable to restrain my alarm. "Go? Go where?"

"To Aslan's How," Lucy replied. She got up and came over to me, where she placed her hands on my shoulders and looked over the chessboard. Edmund followed, and he looked on while Lucy bent over me and chided "Caspian! Don't you see the obvious move?" She leaned over me and moved my queen. She exposed the queen to attack, but she also announced "Check."

Eustace played the next obvious move while Edmund shook his head. I saw the game play out in my head then, and within five minutes I had Eustace's king backed into a corner.

"It's not fair," Eustace pouted. "You had Lucy helping you, and she always beats me."

"That's because I know how to use my queen," Lucy informed him with a grin.

Her hands were still on my shoulders, and I covered her hand with mine and turned to look up at her. "Why are you going to Aslan's How?"

She sighed and combed her fingers through my hair, pursing her lips. "Edmund would like to find out some things."

"What things?" Eustace asked as he set up the chess board again.

He glanced at me. "I'm trying to figure out what happened when the Telmarines came to Narnia. Caspian the First's histories do not satisfy me, and I think there's something in the drawings in the How. Caspian I raised it, but I know the Narnians dug those tunnels and made those drawings, and I've never gotten the chance to really examine them."

"No," I said. "I haven't even been back there since the campaign against Miraz." I looked at him. "I'll come."

Edmund frowned a bit. "Are you sure? It might not be pleasant discoveries."

"I'm King, aren't I? Shouldn't I know about my country?" Edmund had guessed correctly: I would feel better not knowing, but now that he was going to turn over stones I couldn't turn away from the discovery. Lucy gripped my shoulders

"I'm coming too," Eustace said with a little frown.

Edmund looked at him sternly. "You know this is no pleasure trip."

"I know," Eustace said indignantly. "But don't I live here now? If Caspian says he wants to know about his country, can't I say the same?"

Edmund sighed. "Very well." He didn't sound happy about it, but we all rode out together.

Lucy wore a strange costume as we made our way to Aslan's How. Instead of her usual brightly colored dresses, she wore a linen colored kirtle over a plain white dress. Neither of her garments had any ornamentation, and she tied her golden hair back with a black scarf. When I asked her about it, she would only say it was "that time of year."

Since Caspian the first wrote most of his Narnian histories in the thick of battle, the books were small and easily portable. Edmund had taken them along, as well as a more substantial volume of Narnian history such as was taught in schools under Miraz's rule. He read out of these often at night, and I was reminded of the Telmarine falsehood that when they entered Narnia they found it unpeopled. This left a blatant hypocrisy, for how could Caspian I be a conqueror if there was no one to conquer, but no one ever said anything.

Caspian I was a hard man, cruel and fierce. I would have hated him, but hearing his words made me tremble a little, because he was also an adventurer seeking out new horizons. Did I not do the same thing? And had I not been so horrid to everyone on Deathwater when I tried to claim it for my own? I wrestled with these thoughts even when we rode together in broad daylight. Edmund was too much with his books and Eustace was not one to notice such things. As for Lucy if she noticed she said nothing, for her mind seemed elsewhere as we made our way. Aside from the strange clothes, she spoke far less than usual, and I realized on the evening of our second day that she hadn't laughed since our departure.

We arrived at the How on the evening of the third day. It had been raining but Edmund had wanted to press on instead of taking cover. Lucy was shivering as she slid off her horse, and I wrapped her shoulders in my cloak and rubbed her arms. She looked up at me gratefully and moved closer, laying her head on my chest.

Edmund glanced at us and unpacked a lantern from one of his saddle bags. He stood under the archway to light it and looked round at us all. "Come on."

"We're not even going to eat?" Eustace complained. "Can't we at least pitch the tents and dry off."

"I didn't come all this way to go camping," Edmund answered, and he turned and went further in.

Lucy looked at me, and we followed with our arms around each other. "Come on, Eustace," I said over my shoulder. He grumbled a little, but he followed with a second lantern.

"I haven't been here since you came for me," I told Edmund.

"What?" Eustace asked, still peevish from his soaking. "What do you mean?"

"Shh," said Lucy. "Not so loud. Can't you feel the magic of this place? We ought to be more respectful."

"Housing an army was respectful?" I asked her. "Using the very room of the Stone Table for council chambers honored its purpose?"

Edmund had stopped walking and was now peering at the designs. "What do you want, Caspian? You had to do what you had to do. For Narnia. It's the best any of us can hope for." He shook his head. "This looks like the creation story. Not what I'm looking for."

He moved on, but Lucy took the lantern from Eustace and moved closer to the designs. "I hardly know this story," she said in a soft voice. "But look—here is Aslan giving the animals the gift of speech. See him touching their noses? And here he is giving wings to a horse, and oh, I say! That must be the Professor, when he was a boy."

"What Professor?" Eustace asked. His voice was less impatient.

She turned to look at him with shining eyes. "Surely someone has told you about the Professor. Professor Kirke. We were sent to stay with him during the air raids. There was a wardrobe in his house, a beautiful big wardrobe filled with fur coats. I stepped inside it while we were exploring one day and I found myself in Lantern Waste. There it was I met Mr. Tumnus and all our adventures began."

She followed Edmund, and Eustace raised his eyebrows to me before we continued after. "That's only the beginning of the story," I told him.

"Nobody tells me these stories," he answered in a whisper. "They expect me to know them as everyone else does."

"I'll tell them to you," I volunteered. "Your cousin wasn't called Peter the Magnificent for nothing."

He nodded. We rounded the corner and found Lucy and Edmund staring at a new series of pictures, both of them absolutely transfixed. We were right outside the room with the Stone Table. Though they both stood stock still, their expressions were completely different. Lucy's eyes were bright as if tears would spill out of them at any second, and Edmund's mouth was open and very red. Eustace and I dared to approach them.

"Aslan's sacrifice," Lucy murmured, reaching out to touch the drawing of the Witch raising the knife over Aslan. She turned to Eustace. "You saw this knife on Aslan's table at Ramandu's Island."

Eustace shuddered. "That's what they used it for? Why?"

"He needed to sacrifice himself," Lucy said simply.

"But why? Why did the White Witch need to kill him at all?"

Edmund worked his mouth, trying to speak, but it seemed he couldn't. Lucy looked at him, and then at Eustace and me and she said. "He did it to save someone. Does it matter who? He would have done it for any one of us, and that's the important part." She gave Edmund a very keen glance, and he nodded, still staring at the walls.

I examined that picture and saw two figures on the edge of it: figures of two human girls, one with black hair, the other with hair of gold. "This is you," I murmured, pointing to it. "You were there."

She nodded, and two tears slid down her cheeks. "Yes. I was there. I saw it all, except the moment of the killing, when I hid my face against Susan. I couldn't bear to look."

I wanted to comfort her, but she didn't seem to want comforting. She let the tears run down her cheeks without making any movement to wipe them away. I looked a bit further on, and on the other side of the doorway I saw the Stone Table cracked and Aslan renewed, and grouped around him were the same girls: Susan and Lucy. "But you were there as well the next morning. Look."

Eustace came over to peer at the picture. "Lucy!" he cried. "You rode on him?"

"That's not the important part," I said, bending close to the carving. "The important part is that she was there."

We both turned to look at her. She was still standing by the first picture, and the tears were not yet dry on her cheeks. Yet she had pulled off her scarf and her golden hair flowed over her shoulders, shining in the lamplight. Her eyes were dark because of the dim light, but I could see hope shining in them. The same thrill traveled through me that I felt when I winded Susan's horn. This, right before me, was Old Narnia resurrected, and it was hard to believe that I ever felt anything so base as desire for the lady who stood before me.

* * *

_A/N: So I finally had the brainwave that I can split the chapters up and there can be more than one chapter in a character's point of view. Yes, it took me that long. But now that the schoolyear is winding down and the kiddies are taking their tests, I'm hoping I have more time to devote to writing--fingers crossed!_  



	9. The Lady or the Legend Part Two

_The Lady or the Legend_

_Part Two_

_(Caspian)_

Edmund found what he was looking for in the caves. After the sketches of the Golden Age, in which Peter in his crown appeared as a recurring motif almost as much as Aslan, there was a short tale of Narnian disorder which none of us, not even Edmund understood very well. There was no mistaking the end, though. Even in those vague carvings the cruel spears of the Telmaries were visible. The pictures on the wall told a story of futile resistance. Lucy examined these with tears in her eyes, running her fingertips over the scene of a massacre. Her sighs echoed in the passage.

Edmund looked over a series and frowned. "Caspian the First only seemed to want to drive Narnia into submission," he said. "But here, they draw a new king—one can only guess it's Caspian II—and things change. It seems there was a campaign to stamp out Talking Beasts and naiads and dryads. And it looks like here they are being treated as ghosts or phantoms or the workings of madmen's minds."

I lowered my eyes. "There were things people used to say around the castle when Miraz called himself king."

"What were they?" Edmund asked, sounding very like Doctor Cornelius when he used to quiz me.

I pressed my lips together. "If people wanted to say something frightening happened, they would say 'It was as if the woods had come to life.' 'You talk as if beasts could speak' meant the speaker was certainly unbelievable and possibly a little mad. When I first fell in with the Narnians I used the phrase about the trees and I thought Nikabrik would have run me through. Even Trufflehunter looked displeased."

"Then apparently this is but the tip of the iceberg," Edmund said. "The Telmarines were worse than I thought."

"Indeed," I replied, and my voice sounded strangled.

Lucy touched my arm, but I shook her off. "It doesn't matter," I said. I took the light from Eustace and walked to the mouth of the How and huddled in the tent the servants had set up under the dripping leaves. This was my heritage. I was born a Telmarine. Could anything truly make me Narnian? Could I ever really make up a thousand years of wrongs to my kingdom? Was it even mine? Aslan told me that being a Son of Adam should make me both proud and humble, but really I felt neither. My more recent ancestors made me feel ashamed, especially when I stood myself next to Edmund and Lucy, two of the four monarchs of the Golden Age. I didn't even dare compare myself to the High King, who was everything I hoped to be but knew I wasn't.

When the others came out awhile later, I pretended to be asleep. They spent a long time talking in Lucy's tent, and I curled up miserably trying not to think of what they might be saying about me.

I must have been asleep, because the next thing I knew someone was stroking my cheek gently. I felt the touch before I understood it. Still half asleep, I sighed and inclined my head toward the caress. Then a soft voice made a noise of sympathy and I opened my eyes.

Lucy was bending over me. Her eyes were still dark, but they were gentle. She began to run her hand through my hair. "You were dreaming," she told me.

I knit my eyebrows together. "Was I? I don't remember." We were talking in those beautifully soft voices people use in the middle of the night.

She nodded, and she bent to kiss my forehead tenderly. "You poor dear," she murmured.

I reached up and pulled her to me. We kissed, and just as I was becoming enveloped by her scent and feeling the tickle of her hair on my neck, Eustace gave a great snort of a snore. We broke apart with a gasp.

She took my hands and pulled me up. "Come on," she said, leading me out of the tent. She stood looking up at the stars winking through the treetops. She didn't turn to me, but she did reach back and take my hand.

"You don't remember your dream?" she asked presently.

I looked around at the dark trees and up at the bright stars. "No," I said slowly but then a breath of wind ruffled my hair and I did remember. "I was dreaming about my mother," I said, "even though I can't remember her. She was singing to me. We were in Miraz's castle, though I suppose it was my father's then. She looked a little like your sister—I don't know why."

She rubbed my arm, and then all at once she took me in her arms. "Caspian," she murmured. "It must be so hard."

"I don't think about it too much," I answered, but my voice broke involuntarily.

"Still," she whispered, holding me tighter. I couldn't help screwing my face up and burying it in her shoulder. She stroked my hair and murmured "It's alright. It's alright," over and over again.

I wanted to let her soothe me, but something else made me pull away. I stood with my hands on my hips and looked up blinking back tears. "Where do I belong? I'm not Narnian, but I don't want to be Telmarine."

"I'm not Narnian either," she said simply.

"Maybe you weren't born here, but you are Narnian, Lucy. You and your brothers and your sister. The country says its finest hour was under your brother Peter's reign. He was High King—even now, a thousand years later, I pledged my allegiance to him."

I thought this would silence her, but she knit her brows together and stamped her foot. "Exactly! Peter wasn't born High King, he made himself great. He could have run away from his duty or he could have become a tyrant, but he didn't. You can be great too, but you must choose that path." She stepped forward and took my head in her hands. "I know it's hard for you, Caspian. I know. But that doesn't change what you have to do, nor will I let you pity yourself. You are a good man, and noble, and strong. You are young, and you have already done great things. This land loves you."

I let her kiss my forehead, my nose, my mouth, but I was thinking the whole while. "I want to go to Miraz's castle," I said. "I want to see where I came from. People say my parents were kind, that my father was a good king, but I want to know and judge for myself."

Lucy looked into my eyes and nodded. "Then I will go with you."

The next morning Edmund led us back into the How. The air in the tunnels smelled like stale rain and the rumbles of thunder outside made the place ominous. Edmund returned to where he had left off the day before, and I followed dazedly. In my head I was not seeing the tunnels of Aslan's How but the trees of the Southern Wood that black night I fled from Miraz's castle. I remembered careening on Destrier toward some unknown future. I was leaving the only home I had ever known, and the only regret I had was leaving Dr. Cornelius. Perhaps this was the difference between me and King Peter—I had never known what it was to fight for someone. All I had was the faint hope of reviving a long dead past. As I watched Lucy and Edmund in the pool of lamplight and felt Eustace beside me, however, I began to wonder if that was changing.

I spent most of the day in Eustace's company, a few steps behind Edmund and Lucy. Edmund was marveling at the carvings most of the time, but he did turn once to say "It's strange to be here when it's so quiet. I haven't been here since Peter and I came to help you, Caspian."

"At last a story I know at least partly," Eustace muttered. "That was when you were fighting your uncle, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "We used this place as a base of operations. I winded Susan's horn, and that's what called all four of them here. King Peter fought Miraz in single combat."

"What! I thought there was a battle."

"It descended to that," I said, "But it began with the High King facing Miraz for my honor. He and Edmund arrived at our worst hour. We had no food and the army was discouraged and slipping away. If they hadn't come it would have been certain defeat." I looked away into the darkness.

Eustace was quiet for a moment before he remarked "I say, Caspian, why is it that you call Edmund and Lucy by their names but you always call Peter the High King or King Peter or something like that?"

I stared at him for a moment, and ahead of us, I heard Edmund start to laugh. "He's got a fair point, Caspian. Peter is just a man after all. You needn't lionize him so—he can be a right pain in the arse when he wants to be."

Lucy swatted her brother. "Edmund! You shouldn't talk like that about Peter! It's not very kind."

"He wouldn't mind, and you know it. He'd probably say something right back."

I was very surprised to hear them talk about King Peter like this. Even though I had met him, he seemed larger than life, noble and magnificent. They made him sound—well, like a regular boy. Eustace punctuated this conversation by rubbing his chin and said "That's true. He would."

Edmund and Eustace came with us to Miraz's castle. I didn't know if I wanted Edmund there to watch me with his sharp eyes, but I couldn't very well refuse. So after a day more of examining the pictures as Edmund took copious notes, we rode south and west, toward Beaversdam.

The weather continued to be cold and damp. Little clouds of steam came from our mouths, and the mouths of the horses. Everything seemed heavy and sodden, though there was no rain. One morning we awoke to a fog so thick that when I stepped outside I could barely see the fabric of Lucy's bright tent. We were so surrounded by the white I had no way of telling what hour of the morning it was; all I knew was I was the only one up. The camp was quiet.

I was feeling so sticky despite the chill in the air that I decided to go for a bathe in the nearby stream. I reasoned that I was cold, but I couldn't really get any colder or damper and the water would feel refreshing. I grabbed a towel and a bar of soap and took the short walk with long strides.

The water was freezing, but the chill of it woke me up. I rather liked that it was so cold. It reminded me of the first days after I left Miraz, when I was walking round the woods with Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and Nikabrik. Up until then it had been hot baths and delicate meals, and I was quite the spoiled and softened prince, all my training in horsemanship and swordsmanship notwithstanding. When I found Old Narnia, I found a part of myself I didn't really know about, the part of me that loves high adventure more than soft pillows and would rather swim in a biting cold stream than luxuriate in a hot bath.

I stayed in the water until I couldn't feel the tips of my fingers, then I got out and dried off. I thought it was still early, so naturally I jumped a mile when I heard a rustling in the bushes. I didn't know whether I should concentrate on keeping the towel around me or if I should scramble for my sword, and I was just trying to make this decision when Lucy came through the brake carrying a bucket. I stared at her in open-mouthed surprise.

She didn't notice me at first; she knelt and filled the bucket. She was wearing her hair in simple braids which hung over her shoulders, exactly like she wore when I fished her out of the sea and she came aboard the Dawn Treader. I liked that she didn't care about dressing her hair and the proper combs when she was in the woods. I remembered that with Renna I couldn't ride half a furlong without her stopping to adjust her hair and make sure all the pins were in place, which was intensely frustrating. What's more, the old braids reminded me of falling in love with the Queen adventurous, who kissed dragons and braved strange magicians.

When the bucket was full, she stood up and pushed the hair off her forehead. As she turned to go to camp, she caught sight of me watching her. "Caspian," she said with a smile. "What are you doing up so early?"

I shrugged and rubbed my arm. The air was starting to feel cold, but I couldn't very well get dressed with her right there. She stared at me so closely that I became quite aware of the fact that I was naked from the waist up. She set the bucket down and took a step toward me. I didn't move.

She crossed the distance between us, her eyes traveling over me so intently that I almost felt that she was touching me, and I certainly wanted her to. She was just reaching her hand up to lay it on my shoulder and just tilting her head to kiss me when Eustace called "Lucy! Have you got the water yet? We need it for breakfast, and I'm starving!"

We sprang away from each other and turned just as Eustace tumbled out of the foliage. "Hello, Eustace," she said, and though she tried to keep her voice smooth, she spoke a little breathlessly. "The bucket's over there."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be carrying it back to camp?"

I frowned at him, but he merely shrugged and reached for the handle. Lucy scrambled forward. "I'll take it," she said. "We'll, um…we'll leave Caspian to get dressed."

Eustace snorted. "As if you would have left him if I hadn't come along."

"Eustace!" I said sternly. "Don't make suggestions about Lucy's honor like that." Even before he cast his backward glance at me I felt the hypocrisy of my words. I didn't want him to say anything about her honor but I almost certainly would have taken it away. Lucy grabbed the bucket and disappeared through the trees without another glance in my direction. I got dressed slowly, thinking about what Peter and Edmund might have said had either of them caught me with their sister, and I felt a bite of shame.

The following day we rode through showers all morning and the wet gray air clung to us as it had been, frigid and sticky. Our horses plodded through the mud, and their hooves made sucking sounds every time they lifted them. The world was quiet.

Then we came to the top of a hill. There was a break in the clouds ahead, and the sun was pouring into the valley below, so much and so golden it was like a liquid. The hills were a soft, fresh green, so bring the very color was alive, and a sweet, free smell filled the air. The horses' hooves now clopped a little on the firmer ground.

Lucy gripped my arm. "Look! Can you see? A whole field of daffodils. It's really spring." I watched with a grin as she clicked her tongue and her horse took off at a gallop.

"Where are you going?" Eustace shouted after her.

"I'll meet you at camp!" she called over her shoulder.

I felt a little burst of excitement in my chest, and I raced off after her. I vaguely heard Eustace cry "Not you too!" but already the wind was loud in my ears.

When Lucy heard me giving chase, she glanced back at me with a grin and urged her horse on faster. I rode as hard as I could, and eventually I drew level with her. Then my horse's neck inched past hers and I cut her off at the edge of the flowers. We both sat grinning at each other and breathing hard.

She dismounted and left the horse to graze while she went among the daffodils, which rose to her waist and were the color of her hair. She almost looked like one of them in her green dress. I jumped off my horse and followed her. She walked ahead of me pretending she didn't know I was following, and she didn't stop or turn. I couldn't stop smiling.

Finally she looked to her side as her fingers grazed flower petals, and then she glanced back at me for a brief, alluring second. I ran forward and tickled her, and she struggled and shrieked with laughter. We fell to the ground. Then she began to tickle me, and soon I was gasping with laughter as much as her. We laughed until I couldn't breathe and my sides ached. She sat grinning, gasping for air herself. After a moment, she grew a little pensive.

Lucy lay back in the grass, her hair fanning out behind her and flowing over her shoulders and her skirts spreading out like flower petals at her feet. She had picked a small white flower which grew in the grass near the daffodils, and she twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. I stretched out on my side next to her, propping myself up on my elbow so I could look down at her. I dared to rest my hand on her stomach, and the rhythmic rise and fall with her breath was soothing and exciting all at once.

She looked up at me and tucked the flower behind my ear. "Suppose that we only had so many kisses. When would you use them, and how?"

I searched her face, trying to memorize it. Just in case she was right.

She laughed softly. "Don't look so serious, dear. It's only a game. I won't leave you." She traced the contour of my face with the tips of her fingers, and then, after a moment, she pulled herself up and kissed me. Then, while we were kissing she lay back on the grass again and pulled me to her. We were close at last, as close as I had longed to be.

She kissed me for a long time, long and deep and slow. When she finally pulled away she looked directly into my eyes. "Caspian," she said a little breathlessly "Would you—I want you to be with me."

I froze. "Are you sure?"

She ran one hand up and down my arm while with the other she twisted the hair at the nape of my neck. I shivered, completely helpless to her for a moment. "I'm sure," she said. "I never have before, but I want to know. I want to know what it's like to lie with you."

"Here? Now?" I was stalling, but at the same time the idea was tantalizing. I let myself imagine for just a second, and then I forgot myself and slipped my arm underneath her and kissed her neck, down to her collarbone, to the neckline of her dress. I let my hand, which was on her waist, travel upwards to her rib cage. I hesitated there, but then she covered my hand with hers and guided me.

She ran her fingers through my hair and pressed me to her. "Oh," she cried softly, "Oh, Caspian."

The way she said my name brought me back to myself. I raised my head and looked into her eyes, her clear, steady eyes which were now shining with desire. She knit her eyebrows together. "What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head. "I can't. I can't do this to you, Lucy."

She pushed me off her and sat up at once, looking suspicious and hurt. "Why not?" she challenged.

"Because! It wasn't supposed to be like this. On the Dawn Treader it was better. I was happy just to be with you. I didn't care about this—if you held my hand that was enough."

"Of course it was! I was a child then!" She inched forward on her knees and took my face in her hands. "But I'm not anymore."

She moved to kiss me, but I pulled away. "You don't understand," I said. "When I loved you then, I wanted it to be like that always. I wanted to rush up to you and take your hands in mine and hear you say exactly what I had been thinking. I didn't want us to be common."

"But what would happen to us? Could we go on like children forever?" She searched my eyes and touched my chest with her fingertips. "Is wanting you really so very wrong and so base?"

"No…" I said slowly. "It's different, though. And if you gave me the choice between having you bodily and what we had on the Dawn Treader, well, I would take the latter. That was how I fell in love with you."

She cast her eyes downward, then looked at me. "Why is it one or the other? I don't see that there has to be a choice." She brushed my lips with hers.

"But there is," I protested. "We are different together, like this. You are different."

She drew away at once and looked at me with severe eyes. "There it is. You are no better than my brothers. You would keep me a child. Preserve my innocence. My sacred innocence."

"No, that's not quite right."

Tears sprang to her eyes now. "What is it then? Don't you want me, Caspian?"

I was so surprised to hear her ask this I was dumbstruck for a moment. She looked at me with hard eyes, and got up saying "You look at me like that and I know you do, but then I think how can you? I am asking for you and you back away. You say you want what we had on the Dawn Treader, and maybe if I had not come back from the very edge of the world, we would have remained crystallized like that forever. But I did come back, and now I am growing up. It won't ever be exactly like that again, but it can be close. You can see that we are surrounded by flowers, but not the white lilies of the Silver Sea. Life is real here, Caspian, and I am real. You have to decide if you are in love with me or the idea of me." She strode back to the horses, leaving me frustrated in every way.

That night I took my blankets and slept under the stars. I tried to stay awake and think about what Lucy had said to me, but my eyes soon closed in spite of myself.

The Silver Sea spread all around the ship, and the entire crew was assembled on the deck of the Dawn Treader. Lucy was holding my hand watching Edmund and Eustace and Reepicheep settle themselves in the boat. Then she let go my hand and climbed in herself. I felt a choke like I was going to cry, yet at the same time I felt used up from crying already. I wanted to call out to her, but just as I opened my mouth, Drinian cried "Shields and flags out!" and they began to lower the boat. I rushed to the railings and leaned over as far as I could, waving and waving. Lucy looked straight into my face and called her goodbyes until the boat touched among the lilies. Then the current drew them all away from me. I hung over the sides watching Reepicheep's dark fur and Lucy's hair shining above the lilies. Before they had quite disappeared, the ship started to turn. I wanted to tell them to wait, that they were coming back, but I couldn't form the words. And then, as I looked back to watch the boat disappear on the horizon, I knew they wouldn't return. They were going to the end of the world, and I was left behind. Lucy was simply slipping out of my life as quickly as she came into it. I would return to Cair Paravel alone, and I saw my life flash forward—a wedding to a woman with silver hair and dressed in blue, a baby—a boy, my boy. He grew into a Prince and was almost a man. He appeared one day bearing his mother's body: she was dead. Drinian appeared before me telling me my son—Rilian—was lost. I never saw Edmund or Lucy or Eustace again. Even in these flashes of life, the silver haired woman and the boy, both of whom brought some faint impression of comfort, never reappeared. I was quite alone, and all I had was an echoing memory of Lucy's laughter.

I sat bolt upright. The dream still hung about me, clear as if it could have been real, and I thanked Aslan that it wasn't. I got up at once and pushed apart the flaps of Lucy's tent. She was sleeping peacefully, resting her cheek on her hands. I laid myself next to her and kissed her. She returned the kiss before she was fully awake and when I drew away she blinked, slightly bemused.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I love you. I want you."

She held me close. "Caspian, dear, you're shaking. Whatever happened?"

I looked into her eyes. "I dreamt you sailed to the end of the world, and you never came back. I saw my life without you. I was so lonely."

"Hush. It was all a dream. It isn't real. I'm here," she murmured, stroking my hair, my back.

"Stay with me, Lucy. Stay with me forever." I realized after I had spoken what I was asking of her, but I found I didn't want to take it back. She pulled back and looked into my eyes for a long moment. I saw that she understood. She nodded with a look that said plainly to me "I will. I promise," and then she kissed me and pulled me close.


	10. Heir to the Throne

_Heir to the Throne_

_(Lucy)_

I didn't go to sleep that night. I lay awake with Caspian's head on my shoulder and his arms wrapped around me. I ran my hand through his hair and listened as he sighed in his sleep while I watched the colors of the night change from deep blackish purples to soft, lush blues and greens as dawn crept closer. Tears pricked my eyes, and I was very moved and very afraid.

I knew this was what I wanted. I had been sure, and Caspian's touch was as wonderful as all I dreamed of. I didn't regret a moment, not even that first pain, but still. I wondered. My head started to teem with questions.

_What will I say to Edmund when I see him? He will know, surely, for Caspian hasn't been in the tent all night. How will I answer Eustace's inevitable questions? What will Edmund think? If this was before, I would be surest of Edmund, that he wouldn't judge me. But now he feels as though he has to take on Peter's role, and he's a little different. And Peter. One day I'll see him again, and how can I look him in the eye? He would have laid down his very life to preserve my innocence, and I gave it away._

I sniffed and pulled Caspian closer to me. Guilt threatened to prick at me, but when I kissed his blond head I couldn't feel sorry for what I'd done. Still I was scared to be so exposed, so naked before anyone. No one had ever looked into my heart like that before. I got ready to cry for myself, but then I remembered his eyes. I hadn't expected his eyes. Even before I saw him that morning by the river I had known his body would be beautiful. He had held me close before and I could feel his strength. But when he took me in his arms and he looked in my eyes and he never looked away. I almost couldn't bear it, and yet I wanted him to look at me like that again and again, forever.

I shifted in his arms and kissed his forehead a couple of times. I wanted him to wake up and talk to me and soothe away my troubles as I knew he could, but I didn't want to wake him. I hoped the kisses would do the trick, but he slept on, and I went on staring into the darkness.

Edmund didn't say anything at all. I thought I caught the slightest raise of his eyebrows when Caspian came out of my tent the next morning as I was stirring up the camp fire, but that was all. When Eustace looked at Caspian as we ate and asked him "Where were you last night?" Caspian only said "I slept outside. You see my sleeping roll." Eustace shrugged in acceptance, and we all finished and packed up.

This was worse than if Eustace had asked a thousand questions and Edmund lectured me. Even Caspian went on exactly as he had before. He was kind and warm, but he seemed to think nothing had changed. The problem was that I felt completely different. I would look at Caspian's back as he rode ahead and chatted with Edmund, and I didn't know if I wanted him to sweep me into his arms and show me all that passion again or if I wanted to turn in the other direction and ride as far away from him and everyone as I could. Since everyone else seemed to think that all was fine, I couldn't say anything. That was the first time I really lied, because I pretended everything was fine too though in truth I had never felt more unsettled. I would lay awake at night thinking that if Caspian came to me I would hit him and tell him exactly what I thought, but hoping he would come all the same. He didn't.

We arrived at Miraz's castle, and as we sat looking up at the crumbling gates I saw the storm pass over Caspian's face. A moment before he had been laughing with Eustace, but he stopped all at once and glared at the castle looming before us. I started to reach for his hand, but thought better of it. He was the first to start his horse, though he went at a walk.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Eustace asked, inching his horse between Edmund and me.

Edmund shook his head. "Hard to say."

"He feels he must, and that is all I know," I said, chewing my lip doubtfully.

When Caspian called us back to Narnia by winding Susan's horn, we found the ruins of Cair Paravel sad because they were so full of warm memories that no longer existed. The place shone still because it had been the home of great valor and the seat of the four thrones which were Narnia's best hope. There was something almost sacred about those ruins. Miraz's castle had no such claim. Instead of nature creeping back and splitting the stones, Narnians had come to use the stones for their own purposes and dragged them through the gardens. There was no love for this place anywhere, and though the castle itself was still mostly whole, it was quickly falling into disrepair.

We left our horses to the grooms and continued inside. Though the sun outside was warm there was a chill inside, and I rubbed my arms and drew close to Edmund. Caspian led the way, clipping the corners as if displeased that he knew this castle so well. He stopped in a hall with many pillars and a checkered floor. There were cabinets all around the outer walls, and down the center was a row of busts done in black marble. "All the Telmarine kings," Caspian said with a scowl. He strode down the length of the room until he reached Miraz. I assumed it was Miraz, for I had never seen him, but he was everything Edmund and Peter had described even when carved in marble. Caspian took one long look into the eyes of the stone Miraz then lifted it above his head and smashed it on the floor. The nose fell off as the statue rolled away, and one of the floor tiles was cracked in all directions.

Caspian looked at the head of Miraz, breathing hard. Then he looked at Edmund without a change of expression. "You want records? You want to know? Here." He strode over to the cabinets and wrenched them open. He yanked out several volumes. "The Telmarines loved their false power. Each of the kings kept chronicles. Have Miraz—though I don't know if it's a good read. It's unfinished, you see. Have my father. See if he was a good man after all, though whether one can be both a Telmarine and a good man is very questionable." As he spoke he tossed the volumes on the floor, and they landed with soft thuds that echoed dimly in the room of marble. I looked at the books and then at Edmund.

"Caspian, look here," Eustace began. "This is madness."

Caspian rose and looked at Eustace. He was very red indeed. "Don't you talk to me about madness! You don't know what it's like to grow up in a house that's like a prison, where no one cares about you—"

"Yes I do!" Eustace shouted. "I do! You think I come from a loving family like they do?" He indicated me and Edmund. "I don't have any brothers and sisters, and my mother—well, I don't know why she had me. She didn't seem to love me very much. Around her there were more lectures than kisses. I got to think I was more a social experiment than her son. I know what it's like, Caspian."

"But—"

"Now you're going to start whining about how Narnia's fall is your fault aren't you? I'm so sick of hearing it! You saved Narnia. You brought the country back to what it was—at least that's my understanding, and I only have it because others told me. Other Narnians. But fine—if you want to come here and wallow in your misery, then go ahead." He turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Fine!" Caspian yelled after him. "Walk away! I don't care!" He narrowed his eyes as he stared after Eustace. Then he turned to me and Edmund. When he saw bewilderment rather than sympathy on our faces, he made an impatient noise and stalked out himself.

Edmund bent to collect one of the volumes, muttering "All the same, I want to know."

I couldn't stay while he read, so I ran after Caspian. He was fast and knew the castle, though, so I was searching for a frustrated half hour before I found him curled on a bed in one of the upstairs chambers. He was surrounded by a boy's playthings and he was stroking a book of his own. This one was more crudely made than the leather-bound volumes downstairs, but his eyes were bright as he touched the pages. I made a soft noise of sympathy and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked up and pulled me to him so that we were lying together. My head was on his chest and his arms were around me, holding the book.

"I think Nurse made this book for me because she knew that eventually Miraz would send her away," he told me. "I know she wanted me to remember Old Narnia. I found it under my mattress after she left. I could scarcely read, but I made myself learn. When I read myself to sleep I felt like she was still there. I could feel her kiss on my forehead."

I tucked myself closer, holding him as tight as I could. He let the book fall a moment as he hugged me with all his strength. Our bodies were pressed together; we were a tangle of arms, and I could scarcely tell where he began and I ended. After a moment he kissed my forehead and said "I want to read you my favorite story."

I nodded and we let go a bit to give each other space to breathe. He opened the book to nearly the first page and read in a quiet, almost boyish voice " 'Mr. Tumnus was a faun who lived in the Western part of Narnia during the Hundred Year Winter. His house was not far from Lantern Waste. He lived a very quiet life, and his favorite way to spend an afternoon was reading a book by his fire and sipping tea. He believed that people should live and let live, and his dearest hope was that the White Witch would just leave him alone with his books and his tea.' " He broke away and looked at me "That was exactly as she used to tell it to me. I can hear her voice as she sat on the bed with me. 'Sometimes he thought about the end of the White Witch and the fulfillment of the Great Prophecy, but never for long. What if he spent his life hoping and it never came to pass? So when the White Witch charged him with turning any humans he should encounter over to her he agreed, because he was not a faun made for wars. Though his conscience pricked at him, he reasoned that he wouldn't ever meet a human in the woods. After all, he had read a book called _Is Man a Myth?_ which questioned the very possibility of such a creature existing.

"'Except one day he did meet a human in the woods. He was coming from shopping on an evening of thick snow when he passed into the pool of light from the lamppost and found himself face to face with a girl. Her name was Lucy, and though she was still very small at the time, she would later become Queen Lucy the Valiant. They were both surprised and a little scared at first, but soon they were walking back to Mr. Tumnus' cave while Lucy tried to tell him about the place she came from.

" 'Mr. Tumnus knew his promise to the Witch, and indeed he even started to keep it, lulling Lucy with a tune on his pipes. Lucy was a wise girl,' " Caspian paused to smile at me, " 'and she shook herself out of the dream. Then Mr. Tumnus was forced to admit what he was doing. Though she was afraid, Lucy did not scream or cry or fight him. She only asked to be set free. Of course Mr. Tumnus understood that he could not betray her, and so he guided her back to the lamp post. She went back to the place where she came from and when she returned she brought all her royal siblings with her: Peter the High King and Queen Susan the Gentle and King Edmund the Just. And so, although he didn't dare believe in the Prophecy with his whole heart, Mr. Tumnus was the first Narnian to help it come to pass.' "

He put the book aside and shifted so that we were facing each other. "I always hoped with everything I had, and it nearly broke my heart. But I hoped all the same."

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I touched his cheek and kissed him. There was a good deal I wanted to tell him about those days before I got back to Narnia with everyone, about how they didn't believe me and how I started to wonder if I didn't dream it all, but he started to kiss me. At first I wound my arms around him, relaxing to his touch, but his mouth became more insistent and he moved against me. I knew what he wanted, and I started to feel afraid. That delicate feeling like I was swallowing glass started to come back. He looked into my eyes and murmured in between kisses "Lucy. Lucy, please. I need you." He was more delicate than me, and he had the courage to ask for help. I couldn't tell him no, not when I half wanted him myself. Even if I thought it would break me.

Afterwards, when twilight's shadows started to creep through the room he fell asleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I chewed on my lip and stared at the gilt peeling off the ceiling. I didn't know why I felt so raw inside. I loved him, didn't I? Hadn't I dreamed of him taking me in his arms? I asked him to when we were among the daffodils. But I didn't know what it would do to me. I felt as though I was bleeding and I didn't know how to stop the flow, or even where the wound was to begin with. I never wanted to talk to Susan so badly. She would understand. She would help me. But she was a world away. She didn't even know what I was going through.

Did anyone? Certainly not Eustace or Edmund or even Caspian seemed to understand. They just pretended nothing had happened. They were the only ones who would know, except for Aslan. Surely he was watching. I realized everything this meant and I sprang out of bed as if Caspian's skin burned me. Aslan knew what I had done. Perhaps he was angry. I felt even more naked than I was, and even after I had pulled my dress over my head I couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were clinging to my every movement.

I ran from the room and down the steps. I ran through all the close corridors until I was outside in a little back garden where there was a pool surrounded by large, flat rocks. Once the courtyard had been wonderfully paved in mosaics, but the tiles had fallen out or been chipped away and grass was growing between them. I could only just see this in the fading light. I tripped on a loose stone and fell to my knees by the edge of the pool. I looked into the water and saw my face, white and wide-eyed. I though I could also see Aslan over my shoulder, and he was looking at me with very grave eyes. When I turned my head, though, he wasn't there. That was when I began to sob. My chest heaved so I couldn't catch my breath, and I started to feel sick to my stomach, but I couldn't stop. I didn't know what I wanted, and I didn't know how to fix what I'd done. All I could do was cry.

"Lucy?" a voice asked behind me. I looked up expecting to find Caspian and saw Edmund.

He knelt beside me. "Lu, what's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"Oh, Edmund!" I cried, throwing my arms around his neck. I wept into his shoulder even harder. He held me gingerly at first, but after a moment his embrace was sure, and that gave me enough strength to talk. I sniffed and looked up at him. "I think I've made a terrible mistake," I said.

"Come now, it can't be all that bad," he said, patting my back.

"I don't know, but I feel as though it is." I shook my head. "I don't know if I ever should have let Caspian…" I dropped my eyes. I couldn't look at him anymore.

Edmund's right hand left my back and I felt him reach for his sword hilt. He stopped himself, and though his lips were pressed together in a very fine line he asked "Has he hurt you?"

"Oh, no. Not on purpose anyway. I just—I think that Aslan's angry with me for being with him. I don't know. I'm so confused." I buried my face in my hands and tried not to sob.

"Hey now. Listen," Edmund said kindly but still in his practical way. He took my hand by the wrist and pulled it away so he could look into my face. "What's he got to be angry with you for?"

Susan wasn't there, so I had to confess to Edmund. "I'm not a maid anymore. I let him—I asked him—"

"Hush, Lucy. That's no worse than any of us have done. Aslan wouldn't abandon you for something as small as that. He saved me even though I did something much worse. You mustn't think Aslan so harsh."

I looked up at him. He never mentioned what happened when we first got to Narnia. I had only heard him refer to it twice before, and his making mention of it now made me freeze. He gave me a sheepish smile and hugged me again. "Don't take it so hard."

I squeezed my eyes shut and held onto him as tight as I could. I could have told him about how Caspian didn't seem to think anything was different when I felt like the whole world had been turned upside down, but I found I didn't need to. Edmund rarely let me hold him as close or as tightly as I wanted, but on the handful of occasions where I could, the beating of his heart alone soothed me. Peter made me feel safe and protected, but Edmund made me feel stronger, as if I could face the very thing I was afraid of. Though he probably wanted to, he didn't draw away. He held me a long while without saying anything.

Eventually, awhile after it was really deep night, he helped me to my feet. "Come on. It's freezing out here. Let's get you by a fire." I nodded and leaned against him.

Edmund took good care of me. He tucked me into an armchair and brought me my dinner and sat with me and told me stories while I ate, trying to make me laugh. I realized I hadn't spent an evening alone with him like that in some time, and I also saw that whatever happened with Caspian, I would always have Edmund.

He left to get some tea, and I stared into the fire. I was starting to feel a little warmer, but I still felt fragile, as if I were convalescing. I hadn't known love would make me feel like this. I didn't know if I liked it, or even if it was for me.

I heard footsteps in the passage and thought Edmund was returning with my tea. I smiled to myself until I heard the voices in the hall. "What is this about, Edmund?" Caspian asked, sounding trembling but defiant. "Have you read the journals? Do you find me to be my father's son?"

Edmund wrenched the door open before I could find time to hide myself. "Caspian," he said, rubbing his temples, "I do wish you would stop being so selfish."

"What!" Caspian roared. "I've never—I'm not—"

"Stop that. You don't have any righteous indignation. If my brother Peter were here, he'd be at you with his sword. I'm trying to give you a chance."

"So you think me a usurper too!" he cried.

"It's got nothing to do with that! You aren't the only person in Narnia."

"I know I'm not—" Caspian began to talk over Edmund, but Ed overpowered him.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt her," he said gravely.

When he heard Edmund mention his promise, Caspian froze. "I haven't," he said almost fearfully. "Have I?"

"Perhaps if you opened your eyes and looked at her, you'd know." He gestured to where I was sitting, and Caspian turned around. He came to sit before me on the Ottoman. Edmund gave me a brief nod before he left the room.

Caspian searched my face. "Have I?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"No, Lucy. No," he breathed, taking my hands.

"I feel so different," I whispered. "Everything's changed."

"Don't say that. Please."

I pulled my hands away and drew my knees to my chest. I wanted to be cold and angry as Susan was when she schooled her suitors, but I started to cry. "I feel like I'm falling apart," I said. "No one has ever—not in all the time we were here before. I was the virgin queen. And now—"

He turned a little pale. "I thought you wanted to. I never would have—"

I shook my head. "No, I'm glad—in a way. It was beautiful." I let go of my knees and leaned closer to him. "But so strong and so strange."

He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. "I know."

I looked into his eyes. "Then why did you act as though you didn't? Why did you act as though nothing had happened? I couldn't bear that. My maidenhood has been so fiercely guarded for so long—by my brothers, by my sister, by my country, by myself. I wouldn't ever throw it away. Yet afterwards, you made me feel as if I did. You didn't even care."

Caspian winced as I spoke, and when I finished he buried his head in his hands. "Lucy, what have I done to you?"

"Do—do you regret it?" I asked hesitantly.

He screwed up his mouth uncertainly. "I regret hurting you. I never meant to make you feel like that. I love you, and being with you is…"

"Shh," I murmured. I pressed on his shoulders so he would lay his head in my lap. I found I didn't need him to say anymore. "It's nothing that can't be fixed," I said softly, smoothing his curls, "If you love me."

"I do. Please know that I do."

"I know—now." I bent over him, still talking in a quiet voice. "But this is not like you. I feel…I feel like you're drawing away from me. You are not yourself, Caspian."

His shoulders sagged. "Maybe this is who I really am. Maybe I am nothing but a Telmarine pretender."

I set my mouth in a line, but I also wound my arms around his shoulders and held him close. "You can only be what you believe you are. I have been trying to tell you, but I see now that you can't hear it, even from me. You have to believe it. I can't make you believe, but perhaps I can help you."

He raised his head to look at me, but my arms were still around him. "Lucy, you are so strong. But who will be strong for you?"

"I want you to be," I said, kissing him. "I want to know you'll hold me if I feel alone or help me if I am in trouble or guide me if I feel lost. I want to do the same for you."

He stroked my cheek, and his eyes were dancing as they looked into mine. He didn't say anything, but I could feel what he was thinking—the same wide-eyed wonder of the last seas washed over him.

"Caspian," I urged gently, "Tell me who you are."

He dropped his eyes. "I don't know."

I too his hands so he would look at me and shook my head.

"Do you know who you are?" he challenged.

I drew in a slow breath. "I am Lucy, Queen of Narnia, sister of Peter the High King and Queen Susan and King Edmund. I was the first to find Narnia. When I love, I love with all my heart, and when I love I believe. That's why my faith—my faith in Aslan, in Narnia, and in my siblings—is so strong it's unshakeable. That's why they call me valiant. The only thing I'm truly afraid of is a life without hope. I know who I am, Caspian. This is what I hold on to when I got back to my world, for this is who I really am. I have to know."

He leaned forward and kissed me all at once, so quickly and so deeply that I was quite breathless when he pulled away. "Tell me who you are, Caspian."

"I am the luckiest king Narnia has ever seen. I am even luckier than King Peter, for blessed though he was he was not expecting his greatness. I prayed all my life to see Narnia restored, and I have. I even had a role to play in that myself." He lowered his eyes, thinking a moment, and when he raised them to meet mine, they were shining. "Yes," he said, "I am lucky indeed. Even though my life was sad at first, I have seen all my dreams come true, even the ones I thought most impossible. The woods awoke; Old Narnia thrives again. I have sailed almost to the very end of the world. I called the four monarchs from the past, and they answered. But…I carry my father's name, the name of almost all the Telmarine Kings. I wasn't raised in Cair Paravel by the sea, but here in this cold stone castle. I was taught to fear the ocean and the woods. I wonder if being raised Telmarine I can really be a part of Old Narnia as well."

"Do you not carry Susan's horn at your side?" I cried. "Did you not sail with Edmund? Didn't Peter knight you? Don't you love me? How could any true Telmarine lay claim to these things? Your fears are false, Caspian, and you are letting doubt deceive you."

He took my face in his hands, searching my eyes with his. I think that if could have spoken he might have said "I find myself with you," or "You show me what I ought to be," for there was that much wonder in his dancing eyes. When I lowered mine because seeing myself reflected so brightly was too much, he kissed me. He moved so that he was on the chair with me, holding me tightly. We were so close that I could feel his stomach rise and fall with his breath. He stroked my hair, then he kissed me again. I wanted to twine my whole body around him, but that old fragility rose up like bile. I pulled away, and I found that I was shaking.

His arms were sure, and he put his lips to my ear and murmured "Lucy, Lucy. Let me love you as I should have from the start. Let me show you." His whisper sent a ripple all the way down my spine. I realized this was the Caspian I had wanted when I kissed him in a field of flowers, and I had already arched my neck when he bent to kiss my throat. I sighed and touched his cheek, his hair. I felt dizzy, like I was falling. I knew there would be a moment when I hit the ground, but I could hardly think about that anymore. He was so close and so warm. "Just…go slow," I breathed.

He did. The first couple of times he moved with such urgency and such insistence that I didn't even have time to understand what was happening. He didn't even give me the chance to look at him properly, and I felt as though he scarcely looked at me. I certainly couldn't feel the pleasure that made him bite his lip and moan. But that time I started to feel it. I realized how soft his lips were, how strong his arms were. Some strange shudder passed all the way through my body, the beginning of something. I didn't want him to stop. He didn't.

Somehow we discarded our clothes and I could run my hands over the smooth muscles of his back. Now that I could see him properly I thought that Caspian's skin was golden. He was warm to the touch like gold as well. I was so fascinated I couldn't stop touching him. I was only thinking of my own curiosity, and so I was surprised when I made him say my name with a small moan. He moved his hands over me and I gasped involuntarily. "I feel I can't take much more of this," I whispered, brushing my lips against his as I spoke, "But I don't want it to stop."

He raised his head then and looked into my eyes. "The Silver Sea," he murmured, a smile of wonder blooming on his lips. "You know."

I nodded and drew him close for a kiss, smelled the salt and the Caspian-smell on his skin, melted into him. I knew all he did after that, because he showed me.

Afterwards we lay close together. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't fall asleep. When I thought he might, he would kiss me gently or rub the small of my back and give me a lazy smile. I ran my hands through his hair, which made him stretch with lazy pleasure. "Now that you have made love to a Queen of Narnia, do you still think you are a Telmarine?" I teased softly.

He gave me a sheepish grin, and I kissed him gently. "Sometimes it is a good thing to admit you're wrong," I informed him.

"Then I shall say I have been sorely mistaken," he said. He looked into my face and added a little more gravely "On many counts."

I kissed his nose. "All is forgiven. What is the proverb? Only a wise man can call himself a fool."

He laughed a little and nodded.

"Edmund came up with that," I said, "And he first said it to Peter." I arched an eyebrow, and Caspian blushed honestly and hid his face against me. I held him to me then lifted his head and looked into his eyes. I reached behind me and found his tunic, which I pressed to him. "Come. We are going to clear all this up with Edmund and Eustace."

He took the tunic but squirmed a little. "What shall I say to them? I'm afraid I've behaved terribly. I never meant to yell at Eustace; he's been such a good friend. And I'm afraid Edmund is very displeased."

"If you made it up to me, you can make it up to them. They'll know you're sorry. Besides, I think there's work to do now, and we've got to do it together as always."

* * *

_A/N: I am so, so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter! At first I thought I was on a roll. I started this chapter right after I finished the last one and made excellent headway up until Caspian and Lucy are together in his old room. I didn't think they would sleep together so soon, nor did I expect Lucy to be upset about it, but as soon as I took up her voice, she told me what was going on. A writer must obey the characters; we're merely chroniclers. I realized, however, that they were stuck fast in a bog and I had to get them out of it. That took considerably longer and a lot more drafts and some hair-tearing. All said, I hope this was worth the wait. Even if it wasn't I want to hear your thoughts. Hopefully now that I've got nothing to do all day but write I'll be able to churn out the next chapter (which I think will be in Eustace's voice, in case you were wondering). Thanks for following me and this story this far!_  



	11. Of Kings and Heroes

_A/N: Yes folks, I have finally, finally updated this story! I know it's been ages, but I've had the worst writer's block, and I sat around waiting for inspiration when really the best thing to do is write through it. I'm really hoping to have another chapter soon, but I dare not make any promises lest I jinx myself. To all the people who have not only reviewed but requested updates when I thought this story was long forgotten, my many and most sincere thanks. I hope you like this chapter (feel free to tell me if you don't) despite its short length. And now, on with the story._

_Of Kings and Heroes_

_(Eustace) _

_14th April._ For the umpteenth time I am left thinking that Narnians make no sense whatsoever. This is the story as I understand it so far. C. has been in love with L. pretty much since we were on the Dawn Treader and he made that mad proposal to Edmund. Then Renna showed up and _she_ fell in love with Caspian and that made her jealous and not very nice because it all comes back to the fact that C. is hopelessly in love with L. Fine. Then C. and L. make some profession of love and start kissing each other in the woods, in the open air and act all bashful and surprised when people find them. (This has happened more than once, and I even came upon them when C. was practically naked.) After that was a long period of time when they had stars in their eyes whenever they looked at each other and made me think it might be nice to know someone like that. Then they slept together and everything was weird and now things seem to be fine, only C. and I are riding through the south of Narnia while L. and E. go to Archenland. Why C. and L. don't stay together is beyond me: it's so clear that they _want_ to.

Before we left, Edmund took me aside and said I wasn't to mention anything about what I thought might be going on between C. and L. Right. As if it's not patently obvious. I suppose this is another one of those rules of chivalry that I will also never understand. I was raised to believe that such things never existed. There were no knights, no chivalry. Harold told me again and again that ideals were for fools and there is no honor in people, that only rules could create any kind of fairness. He said that in order to create the rules, people have to look at the world for what it really is and not blind themselves with faith in something that doesn't exist.

That's what Harold said. Blatantly he's wrong. I've figured out that much since I've been in Narnia, but that's about as far as I've gotten in three years. If he's wrong, than what's right? The only examples I can follow are Caspian and Lucy and Edmund.

So fine. I follow C. Maybe I could even say we're friends. I definitely look up to him. Maybe he loses his temper every now and again, but everyone has their faults. His yelling hurts my head, but he's not pigheaded enough to stick to his guns when he knows he was wrong. He wants to do right by everyone. He cares about those around him more than he cares about himself. Harold never taught me about that. I don't even think he believed in taking care of others. I think that's part of chivalry. The other part, the giving up your nice room for someone just because she's a girl and serving ladies first and all that, that's just the outside. The real things that make you chivalrous are underneath: honor and loyalty and bravery.

All this I learned from Caspian. I watched him, the way you watch someone well born at a dinner party where there's far too many forks. He's been my example. And for _months_, ever since he's been with Lucy really, he's been on about how he's not good enough. Narnians make no sense whatsoever.

_16th April._ Reached Lord Argoz's house today in the late afternoon and he gave us a great feast in the Narnian fashion. Am used to Narnian food now and I can say it was quite good. This is really the first time we've seen Argoz since the Dawn Treader docked at Cair Paravel and Caspian granted Argoz his old estates here. Argoz likes Caspian tremendously; you can tell by looking at him that he has a very fatherly sort of affection for C. He asked about the liberation of Narnia from Miraz, and you can be sure I perked up my ears. I still haven't heard the story in full.

So Caspian talked about being raised in Miraz's house and his nurse's stories of old Narnia and how Doctor Cornelius told him of his birthright and his flight from the castle in the middle of the night. Then he told of finding Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and Nikabrik and rousing the Old Narnians and beginning a war with Miraz even when they had little chance of winning. I thought all of this was very brave, but in the end, Caspian gave all the credit to Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy, particularly Peter. "He met Miraz in single combat," he said with some wonder. "And we thought for a moment he might not win, but he came out victorious in the end. So you see, Argoz, the victory does not belong to me, but to the High King. He and his royal brother and sisters returned to restore me to my throne."

I snorted. I couldn't help myself, really. Caspian turned to me and raised his eyebrows. "Eustace, you know this to be true."

"Well, yes, they helped. But you did a lot too. And besides, you act as though they're all better than you somehow when really they're just the Pevensies." I looked at Argoz. "They're only from Finchley, you know." Of course, this didn't mean anything to Lord Argoz, nor to Caspian.

Caspian's face darkened as I expected it would. "Whatever they were born to in your world, they have become far more than that here."

I wasn't really in the mood to hear another speech about how Peter was the greatest King this land had ever seen and his reign was the Golden Age and all that—well, it's not exactly rot, but sometimes it is a tad exaggerated. So I scraped back my chair and faked a yawn and said "Fair enough, Caspian. Thank you for the dinner, Lord Argoz. I'm going to bed." Caspian's mouth was hanging open. I knew he wanted to continue the lecture, but I really wasn't in the mood to hear it.

_17th April._ If I thought that going to bed would get me out of the lecture, I was wrong. C. came to find me this morning after breakfast. "You always doubt the four monarchs," he said.

I couldn't think of an answer that would get him to shut up, so I didn't say anything. I thought maybe he'd go away if I seemed like I didn't care.

Not so. In fact, this seemed to fuel him. "Don't you realize who your cousins are, what they've done for this country? I know you've heard the stories of the Witch. I know you know all this."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, maybe I do. But does that make them gods? Does that change the fact that Edmund was a bit sharp with me when we were back in that other place and that Susan turned her nose up at me? Does that excuse the fact that Peter was a little harsh when I was hard on Lucy? For goodness' sake, Caspian, they're just _people_. Even Lucy."

He sniffed and straightened his shoulders. "I know they're just people. Otherwise, Lucy and I wouldn't have…" He paused searching for some vague phrase.

"Had sex?" I offered. Perhaps I didn't learn a whole lot about chivalry growing up with Harold and Alberta, but at least I could call things for what they were.

"You make it sound so common," Caspian answered, his face darkening. "I didn't use her like that."

"Maybe not," I agreed, partly because it's pretty plain that he loves her and partly because I didn't want him to start yelling. "But that's still what you did. It's got nothing to do with using her. You wanted her. She wanted you. You slept together. Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but that's usually how it works." I saw him scowl and open his mouth so I pressed forward. "The thing is, Caspian, if you would learn to treat her like a regular girl instead of some legendary queen, you might get on a little better."

"I get on fine," he said coldly. "I give Lucy the honor she deserves. I cannot look at her as some ordinary girl simply because she is not ordinary. She never could be, whatever you may think." He turned on his heel and walked out.

_18th April._ C. has stayed clear of me all yesterday and today. I have had some time to think. I thought about Lucy a bit, and what I said. Perhaps Caspian was right in a sense. Lucy wasn't like other girls. Renna was regular. Lucy's a little more special. The trouble is really that Caspian thinks _he's_ ordinary when clearly he's not. I suppose this means I'd better go and apologize. I hate that.

_21st April._ The nice thing about C. is that even when he gets mad at you he's always quite ready to forgive. I told him I was wrong about Lucy and he grinned and shook my hand and made it pax right away. Then I told him what I thought the problem really was and he frowned a little and said "We'll see." I suppose it's progress in that he didn't feel guilty and start the whole Telmarine bit again.

Still, now we are riding to another town in Narnia. Caspian wants to know more about his father and what kind of ruler he was, so Argoz sent him to a village that is mostly Telmarine to find out. We're nearly halfway there. I miss sleeping in a bed. That was nice, at Argoz's castle.

I had to ask C., though. "Does it really matter who your father was?"

"It does to me."

"But why? It never mattered to Edmund and Lucy and Peter and Susan."

He shrugged. "Maybe because their father never ruled Narnia or came here. I have a legacy I'm part of, a family I know nothing about. Look at you. Even now, even after three years here you still remember the things your parents taught you. Maybe you forget some things, but at least you have such a wealth of memories that you have the luxury of forgetting. I don't have anything. I don't even know if I have to live up to my parents or overcome them. That's why we're here, Eustace. That's why we're doing this."

I realized something then. Caspian is my friend. And because he's my friend, I want to help him.

_25th April._ For the past few days C. has been sort of holding court in the different pubs and barrooms of town, trying to understand what kind of man his father was. It's not easy going. People usually like to butter up a king, so they're all full of nothing but praise. I don't buy all the flowery words, and neither does C. So tonight while he was fielding competing compliments, I went down the street a bit and did some investigating myself. This is what I found out.

They say Caspian IX was basically a good king. He could be willful and had something of a temper—don't know anyone like that at all—but also that he was very charming and had a generous streak. (ditto) But they also say that he didn't look to change Narnia or make it better, just keep it running. One of the men said to me "What you have to understand, laddie, is that Caspian IX wasn't an ambitious King. He didn't look for anything bigger. And if you ask me, I say that's why Miraz was able to take over. He was able to lure certain people with promises of glory."

Told all this to C. this evening and he only scratched his chin and said "But what about Aslan? What about Old Narnia? Did he believe in that?" Some gratitude.

_26th April_. Found out per C.'s request that his father didn't really hold with Aslan or Old Narnia. Apparently he was the sort who trusted his eyes. I may be new to some Narnian ways, but I at least know that there are things beyond what we can see. Told C. this evening and he sighed and turned a book over in his hands.

"Lucy found this when we were staying at Miraz's castle," he informed me. "It belonged to my mother."

"What is it?" I asked, sure that he would tell me anyway.

"It's her diary. She writes of being married to my father, being pregnant with me, her hopes for Narnia. She says she loves him, even though he can sometimes be difficult with his temper. She says she cannot wait to hold her baby. She says she knows Old Narnia is out there somewhere, but she doesn't know how to find it, or where to begin or how. Only that she hopes to see it resurrected." He frowned a little. "She had faith, but she was…well, she was scared."

"So what are you getting at?" I asked. I was sure he was in one of those moods where he didn't really want to have a conversation, he just wanted someone to listen.

"Lucy's never scared. Or if she is, she goes forward anyway. That's what I love about her."

I sighed and put my hand on his shoulder. "I think she'd probably say the same about you."

He gave me half a smile. "But what makes me want to seek adventure when my parents so studiously avoid it?"

I started to laugh because he sounded so ridiculous. "Honestly, Caspian! Do you really think we get everything from our parents? If that were true I'd be beyond redemption. Harold and Alberta would never hold with Talking Mice."

C. looked at me for a long moment, and then he laughed too.

_30th April._ C. pensive as we ride on. He heard from some of the townspeople that there was a castle with people who still have loyalties to Miraz so now we are going to Investigate. Wonder if he's ready to be a King and show his power if it comes to that. He's had a lot of self doubt.

_1st May._ At the castle. Reports were right—they are loyal to Miraz. Of course they wouldn't tell C., they're buttering him up, but they showed me over the castle earlier and pointed out all the antiques. That bureau dates from Caspian V, this sideboard from Caspian VII. I noticed there were no wardrobes in the house. If you want to know the truth, the furniture was stiff and ugly, and the Lady of the house showed off just as if she were walking through Cair Paravel. I didn't really see what she had to be proud of.

She sniffed when I didn't fawn all over the furniture as though it was the finest thing I've ever seen. "Can you not appreciate Narnian finery? Do you lack an artistic eye?"

"Not at all," I retorted. Maybe C. might have bit his tongue, but I couldn't. "It's just that this is not Narnian finery. Cair Paravel is a lot more artistic."

"How dare you? We are the finest and oldest house in the South of Narnia. All this reflects our worh," she exclaimed angrily.

"Actually," I answered coolly, "I think that title actually belongs to the family of Camillo the Hare and Glenstorm the Centaur. Their families trace back to before the Golden Age, during the Hundred Years' Winter."

"Don't tell me you actually believe in all that! You would hold with talking vermin?" she shrieked, getting shrill. I was rather enjoying seeing her get so upset when I kept my cool.

I raised my eyebrows. "You don't? You know the King only permitted Telmarines to stay in Narnia if they accepted the Old Narnians—and Aslan." She seethed, and I felt it my duty to add "We could check with him if you're not sure." I walked off in search of Caspian.

"No, don't," she begged, trotting after me. "He wouldn't understand—"

"Well, why don't we just ask him and see?" I asked, smiling only with my lips. I pushed open the door to the great room, where I knew Caspian was.

"Caspian," I announced, but the second he looked up at me, I forgot all about what I was going to say.

He was sitting in an armchair, and before him stood a very young boy with dark, prickly hair and a very angry expression. C's face, meanwhile, read nothing but astonishment.

"Who--?" I began, but the boy turned to me and announced himself.

"I am Miraz, son of Miraz I, rightful heir to the throne of Narnia," he said all in one breath, as if he had memorized it. He looked at C. and pointed to his head. "I want my crown!"


	12. Issues of Trust

_A/N: If you've read this chapter before, take another look. It's undergone some edits. There was rather an outcry against Ed's homosexuality as I originally drafted it, and I've thought about it. I think it could work in some ways, but I will say that I didn't actually think of him as gay when I started this story, therefore it's rather silly to change tack midstream to push an agenda. I have figured out how to work things in a different direction, though that's not necessarily obvious here._

* * *

_Issues of Trust_

_(Edmund)_

Lucy looked around at the dense evergreen forest. "It's funny," she said, "Narnia has changed so much since we reigned, but I feel that Archenland is still the same. I know this very path—we might be riding to visit Lune and Cor and Corin."

"We might," I agreed distantly, studying her carefully.

She sighed, and I perked up my ears a bit at this. "It's hard to think that they're so long gone. I remember Anvard so well, and Cor and Aravis' wedding. And oh, Corin was such a scapegrace! Do you remember?"

"Do I remember? You weren't there in Tashbaan! He nearly gave Su and I a heart attack when he disappeared." I smiled. I was trying to make sure she was okay, but she was distracting me with her reminiscing.

She smiled back. "You've been watching me all morning, Ed. Ever since we left Miraz's castle two days ago, in fact."

"And you blame me?" I raised my eyebrows. "The last I heard about you and Caspian, he had taken your maidenhood and you were sobbing in your distress."

"Well, yes, I suppose that is true," she murmured, looking at the neck of her horse and blushing deeply. "It's alright now, though. Caspian—he understands."

"I thought he might eventually," I commented.

She had been riding a couple of paces ahead. Now she pulled her horse up and looked at me hard. "Edmund—Ed, I think I really love him."

I looked at her, with her shining eyes and her merry face, still as I remembered when we grew up the first time. Yet all of a sudden she seemed so _old_. Far older than she ever had when we were King and Queen, even though she aged another 10 years. Love, romantic love, gave her a wisdom she had always been lacking our first time through Narnia. I gave her half a smile and started my horse.

"Ed! What are you thinking?" she called, trotting after me. "Edmund! That's not fair!" She drew level and punched my arm. I laughed, and as I laughed I realized something. _Aslan was right. She was hurt, but she's healed. All that I feared for her has come to pass: she's lost her virginity, she's regretted it, and yet she's still Lucy. And she's still happy._ I gave her an appraising look and decided to ask her opinion. "So when we get to Anvard, what do you reckon?"

She smiled, and she probably would have hugged me if we weren't both on horseback. Thus I say it's a good job we were. "I think we ought to figure out who this King Nain is and what he's like before we show ourselves with a fanfare. Archenland might be the same, but he might not be a man like Lune."

"No, and nor do I think he is from all I've heard. Lune would have trusted reports of Aslan putting the next King of Narnia on the throne, Miraz or no Miraz."

Her face grew very resolute. "Whatever happens, we _must_ rid ourselves of the memory of Miraz. It is a poison to Narnia and to Caspian. I want our country to be happy again."

For the most part, I agreed. I didn't think it worth reminding her that strictly speaking it wasn't our country, that we had a very delicate place that was at the same time equal and above and below Caspian's position as King. _Maybe Aslan originally wanted to send us home because of this delicate diplomacy. But Lucy begged so hard he let us stay—though even with the precarious balance of things I can't say I regret it._

We reached the gates of Anvard late in the afternoon on a foggy day. "The clouds rolling in from Stormness Head," Lucy murmured as we dismounted in the courtyard. "Just like always."

The castle guard came up to us at once, two men who crossed their battleaxes and a captain who said "Speak your name and state your business."

"We are emissaries from King Caspian of Narnia," I replied coolly. "We desire an audience with King Nain."

He snorted and turned. "Follow me, if you are prepared to wait. The King does not suffer Narnians gladly."

I made a face at his back for his cheek, and Lucy nudged me. _This does not bode well_, I thought. I don't know what the Telmarines did to Archenland, but Nain seems unlikely to forget it.

For all his pompousness, the guard was right. We were made to wait in a room hung with tapestries and given nothing but a small flagon of wine and a hunk of cheese to refresh us from our journey. "I remember when Lune would have a feast set out before we had even dismounted," I said bitterly, picking at the cheese.

Lucy sighed and strolled around the room, pausing in front of a series of tapestries of the siege at Anvard. She brushed her fingers over the images of herself and me and Peridan leading the Narnian line and Cor and Corin on ponies in the rear. "We may yet see that again," she said softly. "Narnia and Archenland are friends time out of mind, as Susan used to say."

I smiled a little and sipped the wine. It was strong and mixed with only a little water, as was the custom in Archenland. I looked at my glass appraisingly. "You may be right, if we can manage to get them to remember that."

After awhile longer, the door open and a girl who was not more than ten years old slipped in, putting her finger to her mouth. She had long braids hanging down her back and a silver circlet in her hair. "Are you the Narnians?" she asked.

Lucy smiled warmly and nodded. "Yes, we are. I'm Lucy."

"Like Queen Lucy! She saved us at Anvard, you know, her and her brother King Edmund. He also helped find King Cor when he was in Tashbaan."

"You know your history well," I commented. "Who are you?"

She drew herself up. "I'm Princess Aravis, and I only know that story because it tells of when Queen Aravis came too, and we have the same name."

"And you look a little like her too," Lucy added. "In your eyes."

Princess Aravis beamed, but she checked herself, looking shrewdly at Lucy. "How do you know? You can't tell from these tapestries."

Lucy perched on a chair in front of the Princess. "Well…I'll tell you something." I wanted to stop her and protest, but it was too late. The words were already out of her mouth. "I am that Queen Lucy. And this is my brother, King Edmund." _Lucy! _I longed to reprimand her. _We don't know if we can trust her, or even if she's who she says she is. We don't know what she'll do with this information._

"But that can't be! They lived over a thousand years ago!" Aravis said, but her eyes were sparkling with wonder.

"Yes. But were called back to Narnia by magic," Lucy explained.

Aravis clapped her hands. "Oh! Wonderful!" and in that moment she looked exactly like Lucy, only with dark hair instead of blonde. "You must come and see my father! He'll want to know all about this." She rose and tugged on Lucy's hand.

I grimaced at Lucy, trying to show her without words that this might not be the best plan, but she shrugged her shoulders and let the Princess lead her from the room. I had no choice but to follow.

We went down the corridors to the King's study. I still remembered the way, all the twists and turns and curious corners of the castle at Anvard.

"How often have we come this way?" Lucy murmured to me. "How many glasses of wine has Lune poured for us in that room?"

I snickered. "How many times did Corin try to sneak downstairs to find out what we were saying?"

"Remember the one time you let him in when you were talking about trade agreements? He fell asleep right in the chair, only you insisted he stay awake since he wanted to learn so badly." Lucy giggled with the memory.

I started to laugh, but cut it off with a sigh as Princess Aravis pushed the door open and announced "Father! Father the Narnians are here, and you must meet them!"

Lucy and I followed her in and found King Nain staring at us with a most displeased expression. Across the table from him was a youth with a shock of brown hair. He was sitting with his back to us, but he had twisted in his chair to see our entry. He raised an eyebrow at me. I returned the expression.

"Aravis, I'm busy—" Nain began, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She circled the table to stand beside him and laid her hands on the arms of his chair. "But father, you haven't heard who they are?"

"Yes, I have. The herald announced them. They're ambassadors of King Caspian who I heard succeeded Miraz in a bloody civil war. Miraz was no great friend of Archenland, but neither was the string of Caspians before him." He was speaking to his daughter, but he fixed Lucy and I with a cold stare as he said this.

"But Sire," Lucy protested, "This Caspian is different. He is no Telmarine—he's more a man like Peter the High King of old. Aslan guided him to the throne and Narnia is the country it was a thousand years ago, with Talking Beasts and happy citizens."

Nain snorted. "Talking Beasts. As if I'm supposed to believe those old tales."

Lucy grew very red and was about to say something, but I cut her off. "You do believe in Peter the High King and his consorts though, do you not?"

"I'd be a right fool not to!" the King cried. "Did you not see the tapestries of the siege at Anvard in the tiring room? Or perhaps you are not familiar with the story."

"We are familiar with it," I answered. "Intimately so."

Aravis tugged on Lucy's sleeve. "Why do you not tell my father who you are? Father—this is that same Queen Lucy and King Edmund. They've come back from the past to help Narnia."

He turned to Lucy. "Do you think it's amusing to tell tall tales to my daughter?"

"These aren't stories, Sire," she answered softly, but with conviction. "They are the truth."

"And you—" Nain turned to me. "Who are you really? Do you hold with this trickery?"

"My sister has never spoken anything but the truth," I answered coolly. I noticed that the youth was watching my face closely, so I glanced at him a moment before fixing my stare on Nain.

"Enough!" the King cried. "Aravis, it is well past your lesson time. Go now, and apologize to your governess for your lateness. As for you two, follow the servant to your quarters. I have little patience for this now, as I already have business with Prince Sebastian. You will sup with us tonight and then—we shall see."

After we were settled I came into Lucy's room to talk things over. By luck or possibly by the design of Princess Aravis, she was installed in the room she used to stay in when we visited Cair Paravel. I found her standing at the window staring out over the land.

"He doesn't believe us," she said softly when she heard my step.

"Well, he's got a lot of reason to doubt, doesn't he?" I responded. "The story does seem unlikely, and things can't have been good between Archenland and Narnia when Miraz was around. He doesn't really have a reason to trust us."

She set her jaw, looking very like Peter for a second. "Just like coming out of a wardrobe and saying you had met a faun in the woods inside it." She turned to me, and her eyes were bright. "I've never told anything but the truth, Edmund, and people still find reasons to doubt me."

I sighed and slumped into the window seat. "It's not you, Lu. It's just that not everyone has your kind of faith. Some of us don't how to believe like that."

She looked down at me and laid her hand on my head. "You do. You just don't trust yourself to believe."

I gave her a wry half smile.

The Princess and the King and Prince Sebastian—whoever he was—were already assembled when Lucy and I appeared for dinner. King Nain sniffed when we arrived at the table, which I assumed was his way of greeting us. I looked down at my plate and lifted my eyebrows and tightened my mouth.

The Prince spoke now. "Allow me to make myself known to you, Edmund and Lucy of Narnia. I am Prince Sebastian of Galma."

I looked up quickly—too quickly. "Galma?" Lucy repeated in bemusement.

"Indeed. You know the country?" he asked politely.

Lucy opened her mouth, but before she could answer she was interrupted by a trill of laughter coming down the hall. A trill of very familiar, high pitched laughter. I knit my brows together, remembering, adding things up. Thus I didn't start in surprise as Lucy did when Renna appeared in the doorway on the arm of another youth.

Renna, however, pulled up short. "Edmund. Lucy. I did not think we should meet again so soon," she said with thinly veiled hostility.

"So you've met my sister before," Sebastian said smoothly. He patted the seat next to him. "Come sister, and hear the day's news." I looked into his eyes and saw that he had known all along not only who we were, but of our history with his sister. I narrowed my eyes a little.

"How is King Caspian, Lucy?" Renna simpered, settling herself in the chair.

"He is very well," Lucy answered a little distantly. The fact that Lucy closed herself off before anyone made me like Renna still less.

"Since you're already acquainted with Princess Renna, let me introduce you to my son, Prince Cole, and his friend, the Lord Tristan," King Nain said gruffly, coughing his food down. I looked behind the Prince and saw a young man of about my own age who followed in their wake, a man of delicate features and soft eyes, but strong shoulders. He watched the youth Renna was clinging to very carefully.

"These are the Narnians!" Aravis piped up from Lucy's side, where she had insisted on sitting. "King Edmund and Queen Lucy!"

"So they say," King Nain corrected.

I caught Lord Tristan's eye and tried to let him know that he had walked in on a wasp's nest. He merely raised his eyebrows and gave me a smile as if he already expected this situation. I scratched my nose, biting back a laugh.

Meanwhile, Prince Cole was pulling out a chair for Renna, who looked up at him with the simper she had used on Caspian so many times. "I told you about the Narnians, remember darling?"

I looked down at my plate to cover my expression of surprise. _So when his suit to Narnia failed, Wensted pawned his daughter off on the next country in some sort of round robin, as though she's a bauble and not a human being._ Were I alone, I would have given a low whistle. Next to me, Lucy wore an expression of horror, but I noticed she wasn't really looking at Renna. She was looking at Sebastian. "He suffers his father to sell her like this?" she whispered to me.

"Apparently," I answered just as lowly, watching the look of approval with which Sebastian graced Cole and Renna.

Lucy speared a potato rather viciously. "Then he makes for a poor brother," she pronounced. "You wouldn't ever do that. You sought to protect me."

"Of course, Lu, but it isn't always like that." I knew it was rude to continue this whispered conversation, but Lucy was so troubled I had to quiet her.

She covered my hand with hers and looked into my face. "Then I suppose I am very lucky."

Renna caught this, and she leaned across the table to whisper to Lucy "Yes, everything seems to go your way, doesn't it?" Cole seemed oblivious, but I caught both Tristan and Aravis shooting her dark looks. I watched Cole carefully a moment, trying to gauge his reaction to Lucy and I, but I couldn't read anything of value in his face. Strangely, he had eyes only for Renna in that very ignorant puppy love way that Caspian and Lucy never had.

Sebastien chatted vaguely with King Nain about Archenland's prospects for crops and their trade at markets and their stores in the treasury. I was only waiting for him to start inquiring about the navy, so blatantly apparent it was that Sebastien was pumping him for information. I could quickly see, however, that Nain was the sort of man who saw what he wanted to. In Lucy and me he saw a threat, however far from the truth that might be. In Sebastien he saw an ally and comrade. I sighed over this as I cut my meat, and I thought I saw the same regret in Tristan's face, but I checked myself. _If you are looking for glimpses of allies you're doing the same thing as Nain, aren't you?_

After dinner Aravis insisted on walking Lucy back to her room, and she chattered the whole way down the hall while I followed a couple of steps behind. "Princess Renna came with her brother a couple of weeks ago," she explained as Lucy listened attentively. "Prince Sebastian said he was an ambassador from her father and that an alliance between Archenland and Galma would be very valuable indeed."

_So he didn't even bother to vary the speech,_ I thought wryly.

"And Cole, he's always been friends with Tristan who's very handsome, and even though Tristan's only a lord and Cole is prince, all the girls want him. But Renna's turned his head. He likes all the attention she gives him. But…" Aravis stood on tiptoe and whispered not-so-subtly in Lucy's ear "I don't like her. I don't trust her. I can tell with people, whether you can trust them or not. You know?"

Lucy squeezed Aravis' arm. "I do," she said.

At the same time Lucy squeezed Aravis' arm, I felt someone pluck at my own sleeve. I turned and saw Lord Tristan there. "Could I have a word with you, King Edmund?" he asked.

"Of course," I said, casting one last look at Lucy to make sure she was alright. I followed Tristan into an antechamber. He allowed me to pass before him, then he closed the door and leaned against it.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, looking at the carpet. "I believe you. I don't know how it's possible, but I've spent my youth studying that story. You must be who you say you are. You look like King Edmund, and you act like him."

I gave him a half smile. "That's because I _am_ King Edmund."

He looked into my face and grinned at me. "If I can help you in any way," he said warmly. "Please let me know."

I sighed and pushed my hand through my hair, studying him. _Do I trust him? You know better than to let your feelings get in the way, Edmund. Test the waters._ "And what of the Galmians?"

His face darkened. "I have no great love for Renna. Cole has been my friend since we were boys. I know him. He's a good man, but you can't tell anymore, not since Renna came and latched onto him. I feel like I can't tell who he is anymore."

I saw the sincerity in his face, his disappointment at losing a friend. He had more to gain from an alliance with Narnia than just a resurrection of old stories. I bit my lip and took a chance. "All we want is restore the old friendship that once existed between Narnia and Archenland. I know we're not at war now, but once we were powerful allies."

"I have wanted that my whole life. I prayed that the stories of this new Caspian were true, but I didn't know if I dared to believe them. If you are his emissary, then this must be a good sign."

"You—you believe so quickly," I squinted at him carefully. My next question found no voice _Why_?

"I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse," he said. "Call on me if you need me." He shrugged, but he smiled. Then he left.

I stared after him a moment and sank into a chair. I sat there for a long time turning that conversation over in my head, adding his information to what I had learned at dinner. I pondered until Lucy came in and knelt before me, looking up into my face.

"Do you really think that Archenland is in danger?" she asked.

I smiled and patted her hand. "You're always so worried about others. But think Lucy—if Galma's motives are more sinister, if they are seeking power through alliance and we have already refused them, then Narnia is in more danger still. Archenland has at least made itself useful."

"What?!" she exploded. "Edmund, is it really so dire as that?"

"I don't know. But that's what we have to find out."


	13. Taking the Telmarine Out of the Boy

_Taking the Telmarine Out of the Boy_

_(Caspian)_

"I am Miraz the second, King of Narnia!" the boy cried, stamping his foot forcefully. "Give me that crown! It's mine!" He was very red in the face and his voice was shrill from screaming.

I sighed and rubbed my face. "Miraz, listen to me—" I began for the umpteenth time that morning.

"No! You listen! You give me my crown!" he wailed, and began to flail at me with his fists.

"I don't know why you bother," Eustace said dryly, peering round his book. "You might as well kick yourself in the head for all the good your attempts are doing you."

I grasped both of little Miraz's fists in one of my hands. "I have to try," I said wearily. "Lucy would try—ow!"

Miraz had started a new assault, this time using his feet. He had just placed a well-aimed kick at my shin. Eustace rolled his eyes and retreated behind his book.

I ground my teeth and tried not to lose my temper. _He's only a little boy_, I reminded myself. That had become my mantra, along with _Lucy would be kind to him_.

I summoned my patience. "Miraz, you mustn't kick. It's and ungentlemanly thing for a prince."

"I'm not a prince! I'm King of Narnia!" he cried at an ear-splitting pitch. I was beginning to have a constant headache, and I knew when the throbbing in my temple got unbearable it was usually time for him to go to bed. Accordingly I packed him off, and I could hear him fighting against the servants all the way down the hall.

I slumped in my chair. "I can't give up on him," I said aloud. Technically I might have been talking to Eustace, but really I was quieting my own doubts.

Eustace snorted from behind his book; if he thinks someone is addressing him he'll never fail to respond.

"Lucy wouldn't," I repeated stubbornly. "She never gives up on anyone, and I can't either. What if no one had any faith in me?" I shook my head. "No. I have to keep trying. He may come around.

"What on _earth_ would make you think that?" Eustace cried, and his shrill tone pierced my delicate head.

"All of you have spent ages telling me I am not my father's son. All of Narnia gave me a chance because they believe that. Could I be so hypocritical as to believe that Miraz cannot be changed?" I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "He _is_ a little brat, but I was once a spoiled prince. People can change."

Eustace reflected on this a moment, and I could see him remembering his own arrival in Narnia. "Alright, Caspian," he said aloud. "I'll help you in this as much as I can."

I smiled. "Good. We'll take him to Cair Paravel in the morning. I knew there was a reason we came."

"He's coming back with us?" Eustace groaned, but he checked himself and nodded. "But I say, Caspian—"

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do with this family? You know they're not loyal to you."

I squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

"Where do you think Miraz learned all his little speeches? Someone was teaching it to him, and I don't see anyone else around," Eustace said, his hands on his hips. "Besides, I got the tour from the lady of the house and all she cares about is the old Caspian dynasties."

I covered my mouth with my hand and paced to the window. Looking out I saw the lord of the manor canter through the gate. I thought hard. If I was full of doubt myself, could I condemn others for being so? Yet the stipulation was that they remain here under my rule and Aslan's. I paused. That was the hinge if it, wasn't it? I didn't matter so much, but if they wouldn't trust in Aslan… I turned at once and swept down the hall without saying a word to Eustace. He seemed to accept this as natural and followed in my wake. I could hear him trotting to keep up, and even as my mind ticked over a speech I thought that he had to go through some training to at least become a better athlete if not a knight.

I reached the courtyard and met Lord Ardgall coming up the steps. "I would speak with you, my Lord," I said simply.

He bowed, and I saw the truth in what Eustace had said. There was an insincerity to his movements. Before he could begin one of his flowery speeches, I simply said. "Come. And summon your wife."

When they were seated before me, I began straightaway. Lord Argoz had said to me that my father did not suffer fools gladly, and I suppose I had inherited the trait from him. Interesting to think since I had never known him. "I have some questions regarding the boy Miraz."

They both stiffened, and Eustace gave me a none too subtle nudge. It took a lot of self restraint not to nudge him back.

"How did you come to care for him?" I asked.

Lady Ardgall spoke in a clipped, high voice. "He is our royal nephew. My sister was Queen Pruniprisimia. She only died a few months ago of a fever."

I gripped the chair and forced myself not to start in surprise. If she spoke the truth, that meant that these people were the closest thing I had to family. Again, I felt that disappointing swoop of dislike for my relatives. Holding back a sigh, I said "Why did I not know of this? The Queen was my Aunt."

"We—we thought it might displease you, your Majesty," Lord Ardgall said in his fawning manner. "We know the history of your family."

Eustace started to say something but I held out my hand, raising an eyebrow. "Why would such news displease me when all in Narnia have sworn allegiance to myself and to Aslan? The only thing that would displease me is to find that this is not true, when you have been given every opportunity to have a life outside this kingdom."

Lady Ardgall was white-lipped and sitting with her hands clenched. Finally she burst out "Outside this Kingdom to who knows where! Narnia is my home, and I have been loyal to the Kings all my life until someone comes along and says that half forgotten, all mad fairy tales are true and we are to listen to a talking Lion and there's another bloody coup—"

"Saraid, _hush_!" Lord Ardgall hissed. "Your Majesty forgive my wife, she—"

"Enough. You have disobeyed the law of this land. In our mercy and by the grace of Aslan we will give you a choice. We leave tomorrow, and we are taking the boy with us to Cair Paravel. You may choose to keep your estates provided you swear fealty to Aslan on our sword, or you will be granted safe passage to whichever country you prefer, but you will be exiled from Narnia." I stood up and left the room.

In the hall, Eustace gave a low whistle. When I turned to look at him, he merely smiled.

The next morning Lord and Lady Ardgall each knelt in turn and swore fealty on my sword. I was satisfied, and as we swung onto our mounts and rode away from the castle I expressed this to Eustace.

He shrugged. "Just remember, Caspian. It's easy for some people to lie."

I looked over my shoulder at the Lord and Lady standing on the steps. I could question them further, demand proof of their allegiance. I could do as I pleased. But if a King does not trust his subjects, then they do not trust him. Edmund had said that once. I shook my head. "Be that as it may," I said. "They have sworn. They can only suffer if they prove themselves disloyal."

We made our way to Cair Paravel with Miraz at the tail of our entourage, riding on his fat pony with his nurse by his side. I found myself watching his gloomy little face when we stopped for meals. He hugged a stuffed toy and spoke to no one. He had even stopped demanding his crown, and sucked his thumb obstinately instead.

"He looks like his father, my Uncle Miraz," I told Eustace one night at dinner. "That was his very look of displeasure."

Eustace snorted. "If that's true, your Uncle sounds worse than Alberta when she was sniping." I replied with a thin smile.

"I was his age when my Uncle sent my Nurse away for telling me stories of Old Narnia," I mused. "He was very angry when he heard about her tales, and I didn't know any better. I was the informant." What I didn't add was that not only did I lose the stories which meant so much to me, I lost the woman who was the closest thing to a mother I had ever known.

Miraz was quieting from a temper, and he had his head in his nursemaid's lap. With his dark eyes and his lashes stuck together with tears and his red cheeks, he looked not difficult, but lonely. I went over to them and laid my hand on his back.

"It will be lovely at Cair Paravel, Miraz, wait till you see," I said cheerfully, giving his nurse a smile. She turned bright red and hid her face.

"Won't. I want to go home," he complained. Because he was so tired, I felt more sorry for him than annoyed.

His nurse smoothed his hair with a trembling hand. "Little one, listen to the King. It isn't nice to contradict." In response to this he grunted and buried his face in her skirts, but the endearment "Little one" went right to my heart. I could hear all the lullabies and stories and gentle remonstrances behind it. His nurse looked at me apologetically and opened her mouth to make amends for his obstinacy, but I stopped her.

"Don't apologize. He must be tired; it's alright." I looked at him burrowing in her skirts, trying to hide against her. "He's very attached to you."

"I've been with him since he was a baby, practically. He's not a bad boy, but it's not been easy for him with his Mama dying. She fawned on him quite a lot."

I nodded slowly, and I watched Miraz with something like envy. I had never had anyone dote on me as a child, not after I lost Nurse. I remembered crying in my room for ages when she was sent away, trying to tell myself the stories I could remember. When I appeared at dinner with tears on my cheeks, my Aunt said "Ugh—it's so unseemly to see the boy sniveling." So Uncle scolded me and threatened to box my ears and said it was my own fault anyway for believing such fairy tales.

I excused myself from Miraz and his nurse and went back to my tent. As I curled up under the blankets, I thought of Lucy as I had thought of her every night since we were apart. More than anything I wanted to talk with her and hear her say "Caspian, dear." Her little gestures of affection made me feel safe, and warm, as if part of me were a little boy who wanted to hide in her skirts.

I thought about what had passed between us, and I realized that I didn't offer her the same kind of protection. She had been scared after being with me, because I didn't know what to do. I loved her so much, and being with her, loving her…I never thought I would discover something as amazing. It was as powerful as watching the sun come up over the silver sea, all that light at once. But then whenever I woke up afterwards she was gone and I didn't know why. I felt I had found a place I belonged, truly belonged, but could never stay there.

I knew that she had felt that powerful joy too, once, that last time, but I owed her so much more. I wanted to show her what she was to me. Eustace said I treated her too much like a legend, but she was. She was the person who understood me best, she was an inspiration, she was warmth and safety. I wondered how I could keep her close and have her there when I woke up. I wanted her to be home, and family. To know that wherever I went, I belonged with Lucy, that our lives wound together. And then what if we had a family of our own, a child who clung to Lucy's skirts, who giggled when he saw me? A child who always knew how beloved he was. I smiled at all the possibilities. Back when I asked Edmund for her hand in Coriakin's house, I didn't realize all that marriage meant, but I began to see that if my childhood was solitary, my future need not be so.

The guilt pricked at me again, but I sat up with a sudden realization. Lucy herself held no grudge. If I wallowed in sorrow, what good would that do her? No, I would have to move forward and make it right from this moment forward. I found that I was on my knees, and the simplest thing was to fold my hands and say "Aslan, please help me to be worthy of her." Then all the other thoughts that had been crowding my head came spilling out. "Help me be worthy of Narnia, help me be good to my cousin who is so lonely."

As I murmured these prayers a wind rushed through the tent, and I knew he was there. I trembled and opened my eyes. "Aslan."

"You have not called on me in a long while, my son." His eyes were grave and golden. The look he gave me made me tremble.

I bowed my head. I couldn't think of anything to say.

He laid his heavy paw on my shoulder. "Remember that through me all things are possible. I am always walking by your side, even when you think you are alone."

I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"My son," he continued, and there was a flick of his tail. "You have faced much doubt."

Finally I found my voice. "Yes, Aslan, because my father, I don't know who he is, and I'm worried that no one thinks I'm really a Narnian and—"

"Yet everyone believes in you. Lucy believes in you, as do Edmund and Eustace. And you have not considered that perhaps you can help them. You have taken much, especially from Lucy. But I ask you, what have you given back?"

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut to prevent the hot, guilty tears.

"Do not weep, my son, for now is the time to begin. All shall be forgiven in time, and you have already made a good beginning. Remember that you complete no task alone." His golden eyes were intent, and his breath was warm.

"Please, Aslan—" I faltered. "Have I done the right thing in bringing my cousin with me? Will this help him?"

"My son, I will tell you no story but your own," he chided gently. Then he bowed his great head and touched his tongue to my forehead. "Have courage and take heart. You will be the King I intend you to be." I closed my eyes and inhaled the strength and sweetness, and when I opened them, he was gone.

As the vision of Aslan faded, I heard a child crying not far away. It took me a moment to realize it was Miraz, and I went to him without thinking.

His nurse was trying to calm him, but he was sobbing uncontrollably, crying for his Mama. "He has nightmares," she explained, struggling to control his flailing limbs. "Ever since his mother died."

I nodded and crouched beside him. "Miraz, listen. I know what it's like. My mother is dead too."

"No you don't!" he screamed. "Nobody knows anything!"

His nurse reached to soothe him. "Shhh, now, little one," she murmured, pulling him close to her chest and rocking him.

I stroked his black hair. "Sometimes people lose their mothers. But they don't have to be alone. I'll tell you a story about that." I paused, waiting to see if he would listen. He was still frowning and crying a bit, but he stared and me from under lowered brows as if waiting for me to continue. I nodded and took a breath, recalling a story that Lucy had told me. "Well, once there was a little Prince of Archenland, and his name was Corin. Corin's mother had died and his twin brother had disappeared, and all he had was his father. Because his father was King of Archenland, he didn't always have time to play with Corin, and sometimes Corin was lonely. He wanted someone to play with him and talk to him and tell him stories and kiss his cuts, and he didn't think he would have that. Until one day, two Queens of Narnia came to visit. One had black hair and a very beautiful face, and she was called Queen Susan. When she met Corin and heard his story, she gave him a hug and kissed a scrape he had on his elbow, and in that way he knew he had someone who would take care of him. The other queen was called Queen Lucy, and she showed him a scrape she had gotten too, and soon they were trading stories about the adventures that gave them the scrapes. They made each other laugh, and Prince Corin knew also that he would have a friend, so he would never be lonely. And he had many adventures with Queen Lucy, and when they came home Queen Susan was always there to welcome them."

I smiled when I finished, but he stared at me so darkly I worried I had made no progress at all with the story until he said. "Tell me about an adventure they had."

"If you are good, I shall tell you tomorrow. But you must go to sleep now and rest. Who knows—maybe if you are very good the Queens will come and visit you," I suggested. He didn't answer, but I saw the tiniest hint of a smile. "Good man," I said, patting his shoulder and smiling at his nurse.

I didn't go back to my tent. I pulled out my sleeping roll and lay under the stars instead, smiling up at the constellations Lucy and I like to watch. I loved that even just the thought of Lucy could soothe a troubled spirit, and I imagined that I understood Prince Corin very well. _In fact, if we should ever meet, we should have a lot to say to each other. He knows what it's like to love Lucy in some way too._ I hoped she knew where she was in Archenland that I was thinking of her, and I hoped Aslan would help me do right by her.

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_A/N: Finally, finally I'm back! Well, at least with this story. I do want to say thank you to all the people who have been reviewing over the past year begging for more. Believe me, your pleas have not gone unanswered, I've just had the worst writer's block. I needed the encouragement as well as a little inspiration--if not for you I might have given up on this story altogether, but now I'm determined to see it through to the end. Your reviews mean a ton to me--keep 'em coming! I hope this chapter meets with your approval. I feel like nothing I write can justify a year's wait, but I hope you like it a little. Thank you again for all the reviews. They mean a lot and definitely help with the inspiration, though it may not seem that way._


	14. The Old Alliance

_A/N: What's that, you say? Another chapter? Yes! I promise I won't let this story languish...somehow or other I'll see it through. I will say that all the Caspian stuff I've been seeing and hearing lately has refueled my imagination. I'll also admit my last chapters haven't been the best, but I've started the next chapter already, and I feel like it's coming easier and the writing's better. Comments and reviews (even harsh ones!) are much appreciated. By the way, I redid chapter 12 from Edmund's point of view and changed things around a bit; if you haven't checked it out, I recommend you do so before this chapter. Thanks to everyone who randomly favorites and alerts and reviews this story--your notice is very much appreciated. And now, without further ado..._

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_The Old Alliance_

_(Lucy)_

I had a hard time remembering that Anvard wasn't friendly to us. When I woke in the morning, I looked out my window to see the sun rising over the trees just as I had done a thousand years before when Lune reigned over Anvard. In the time when my brother reigned over Cair Paravel. Archenland still smelled the same, fresh and woodsy and lively, and when I stood at the window with my cup of tea I half expected Corin to come barreling into the room with plans for an adventure for the day. I had mostly gotten used to Narnia being a thousand years older, but Archenland was quite another matter. It was like when we got back to London after everything and I saw that my lovely old neighbor's house was a gaping hole in the street. I couldn't comprehend that Edmund would never eat teacakes by the dozen there or Susan play with the cats, just as I couldn't understand that there would be no jolly greeting from Lune, and I wouldn't hear Corin's laugh.

One morning I was up at dawn, far before the rest of the castle was stirring. I liked the dawn; I always had, but even more especially since we had been on the Dawn Treader and seen the sunrises at the end of the world. That woodsy dawn was a grey one, however, without a sun over a sparkling sea, and the chill in the air made me feel lonely. I didn't want to bother Edmund, who was starting to get headaches from constantly thinking a way out of the problem. He was tying himself up in knots, and I could see that he needed rest more than anything else. Aravis wasn't awake to talk to either; I had become very fond of her because she looked like her namesake but acted like Corin. I knew that Caspian was up, probably watching the sunrise over the sea from the balcony at Cair Paravel, and for a moment I longed to be with him. I thought about waking up with him every day and watching the sunrise together. He would come up behind me and wrap his arms around me, and rest his chin on my shoulder…

I didn't let myself linger on Caspian for long. I couldn't, because I would start to miss him too much, and once I started, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop. And then from Caspian it would be a short jump to missing Susan and Peter and it hurt so much to be in Narnia without them that I couldn't bear to dwell on it for long, even three years on. To distract myself, I dressed and took a walk around the quiet castle. I knew all the passageways by heart from all my games with Corin, and I thought of him as I wandered around. Susan was like a surrogate mother to him, but Corin and I were best friends, always laughing and talking together. I wondered what had become of him. Did he marry? Was he happy? I tried to picture Corin holding a baby, and in my mind he looked so awkward and surprised that I had to smile to myself.

As if in answer to my question I came across an old portrait in a gilt frame, showing both twins and their families, and sure enough Corin had a merry looking wife and a brood of children with his messy, curly hair and bright eyes. They were so engaging I quite forgot to look at Cor and Aravis and their son. I let my eyes travel upward and saw Corin as a man, broad shouldered and bulky but still looking boyish. I liked to think that he was happy. I wished I could have talked to him about it, or met his children and learned their names. I touched his painted cheek and continued down the hall.

The library at Anvard was sparser than the one at Cair Paravel, and this still held true. Caspian had been amassing volumes since his coronation, and Edmund had tripled the collection since our return. By contrast, Anvard's library had plenty of wall space for portraits and tapestries, whereas Cair Paravel had books from floor to ceiling. I wandered around, looking at the Archenlandish royal family through the centuries, seeing here and there Aravis' olive skin or almond eyes, or the twins' blond curls, or Corin's merry eyes that he inherited from Lune. I wandered in the cobwebby corner almost by mistake and there I found some old portraits that I remembered sitting for as if it were yesterday—Corin and I caught laughing together; Edmund on horseback with Cor; Peter standing by Lune's chair; Susan with both twins.

I clenched my hands into fists. It was so _stupid_. _Nain should trust us!_ I thought in my outrage. _Why would we lie? Why throw away such close ties with Narnia? Who were these Telmarines that spoiled the good name of Narnia so—or perhaps Nain is just stubborn as an Archenlandish mountain goat. Either way, this must change. I can see Sebastien is only looking to use Archenland, just as Wensted wanted to use Narnia. We only want to extend the hand of friendship. Caspian restored Narnia, and so we are going to restore this alliance. That's all there is._

I knew Aravis agreed with me. She begged for stories and showed me all her haunts in the castle. She was always delighted to hear when Corin and I haunted the same places. She was lively and smart and quite the talker, just the sort of child that adults overlook but who is most worth listening to. I knew—I had been that sort of child back in England.

We sat one day in the window seat of my room, watching Cole and Renna walking on the ramparts. Aravis crossed her arms and sulked. "Cole and I used to walk on the ramparts together. Ever since Renna came it's as though he doesn't know me and Papa anymore. And the worst part is that Papa doesn't even care! He says the alliance is good for the country, so it doesn't matter that we're losing Cole."

"A good alliance means that neither has to make a concession, but both sides come together of their own accord," I murmured, quoting Edmund. Aravis started to puzzle this over and I let my gaze trail downwards to the courtyard. As if talking about my brother called him to my attention, I noticed he was standing in a tight knot with two other people. Occasionally one of the three would squint up at the ramparts as Aravis and I were doing. In this way that I saw Lord Tristan was with him, as well as a chestnut haired girl with a sharp nose and sad eyes. I leaned further out to get a better look at her. "Who is she?" I asked.

"Renna," Aravis answered, annoyed that I should forget something so important.

I shook my head. "No, not Renna. Down there, with my brother. Who is she?"

"Oh! That's Lady Anya. She was great friends with Cole and Tristan growing up, but now she's engaged and she's going to move to the south, near Hermit's Glen. She doesn't want to go very much." Aravis twisted her mouth when she spoke.

"Why not?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

"Because she doesn't love her future husband, but they're making her marry him anyway because he's rich and her family doesn't have a lot of money." She scowled. "Queen Lucy, I don't like any of this. In the old stories, Queen Aravis came to Archenland because it was a nice place to live, where women didn't have to marry anyone they didn't want to. Now Anya is being forced into marriage and Cole is…well they're practically selling him to Galma. What if I'm next?"

I took her by the shoulders and said to her gently, "Aravis, listen. If all goes as we hope, the alliance between Narnia and Archenland will be restored, and I will help your father see that no one should have to marry against their will. You'll be a free woman just as much as I am. You're right—Aravis did come to Archenland for that exact reason—her father was forcing her to marry, and she thought death was a better fate than losing her freedom. Don't worry. We'll make it all right, somehow."

Aravis looked a little cheered by this, and hugged me when she ran off to her lessons. I stayed in the window thinking. What had become of Archenland? What would Queen Aravis say to the fate of her line? And what of my friend Corin, who would have defended Susan's right to refuse Rabadash to the death, meager as his swordsmanship was at the time. Something had gone wrong in this country. I remembered though that Caspian had helped teach me that everything can be put to rights eventually. I smiled at the thought of Narnia now, flourishing under Caspian's rule as the country it was back in my day. I pushed down another bubble of homesickness.

As I was turning this over in my head, trying to find some spark of hope for Archenland, Edmund came in and sat himself down in an armchair. I turned my head to look at him. He arched his eyebrows, then sighed. "Things have changed here," he said.

"I know," I answered. "I know it too well. But the question is, do you think they can change back as they did in Narnia?"

He shrugged. "Anything's possible."

"Edmund!" I chided. "Don't tell me diplomatically. Tell me honestly, as your sister."

He rumpled his hair. "Well, we have friends. Tristan and his friend Anya are sympathetic to our cause."

"So is Aravis," I reminded him.

He nodded. "But the trouble is at the end of the day Nain has to agree. Nain and Cole. And I'll tell you what, Lucy. I don't like the Galmians sticking a finger in every pie. They're plotting something."

"Do you know what?" I asked leaning forward.

"No idea," he said with a grimace and a sigh. "All I can guess is that they're trying to strengthen their position by allying with a nation on the mainland. Possibly they want to break up the old alliance between Narnia and Archenland."

"We can't let that happen," I said at once. "It's too dangerous for Narnia now, it's too important in our history."

"That's pretty much the long and short of it."

"So what are we going to do?"

His eyes sparkled. "Ah. Now that—that I'm glad you asked me." I bit my lip as I watched his face. Edmund's brain turns over so fast, but I know him so well I can practically see the cogs ticking. I knew he had a plan already hatching and I leaned forward so that our heads were together.

"We need to use our friends; get them on our side. And then we need to find out if the people of Archenland will support us. And somehow—somehow Lu, we have to show the King who we are, and that we are truly friends. I would say we should ride in and save the day, but to create that situation would be tantamount to sabotage, wouldn't it?"

I smiled a bit. "You would think of it, though."

He gave me a shove on the shoulder as he laughed playfully. "Well, let's see what we find out then go from there."

This is what we found out: that no one liked Renna, that people were almost afraid of Sebastien. But Archenland was also afraid of us. Narnia had been through such turmoil, and Miraz wasn't a friend to anyone but himself that they felt we could all too easily double cross them. Only a handful trusted in the old legends, like Aravis and Anya and Tristan, but I knew that a handful could be enough.

I also found out that I was not a born diplomat. Edmund excelled at it. He had an ability to read people and a patience and skill for winning their confidence and turning them to his side. I did not. I could not double talk or sweet talk. Always, ever, the only thing I could do was speak the truth.

Then when I was in my bed at night I discovered that I missed Caspian. I missed his musical laugh, and the way his eyes would light up with a sudden idea. I missed the long hours we would spend talking together, when it hardly seemed like we were courting each other, we were just two old souls who had always gone along comfortably. Though it may have been wrong, I found I also missed the warmth of him, his golden skin, his touch. In dreams I tucked myself close to his body as I had that night before the fire, when he made my whole body sing with joy, but in reality my bed was cold. I was not a maid anymore, and I realized that I really couldn't go back to it. I wondered if he was thinking of me.

And so our discoveries led to more questions. In the morning when I woke from a dream of Caspian and I saw Ed at breakfast, I wondered if he had ever let himself fall in love like that. To fall in love would be to let himself lose control, and there wasn't a moment of Edmund's life that wasn't calculated. His charm was meticulous, but effective. While he schemed the restoration of the once famous alliance between Archenland and Narnia, the Lady Anya was falling in love with him. She was not one to simper like Renna, but whenever Edmund spoke, her head turned. When he walked into a room, she sat up a little straighter. These were all the simple telltale signs of a girl in love. I found it interesting that I could read those signs when I wasn't able to before.

Anya's story was a sad one—she had grown up with Tristan and Cole, the three of them always together. Only recently, her father betrothed her to a man from the south of Archenland who we had yet to see, but who she always spoke of with distaste. Tristan told me that her fiancé was 10 years her senior and half as smart.

Small wonder then that she watched Edmund with such avid eyes. Edmund had always been good looking, with his dark hair and his snapping black eyes, and women had always been drawn to him because he was so mysterious and aloof. Each one hoped she would be the one he would open up to, and Susan, Peter, and I watched him break heart after heart without so much as lifting a finger. He simply never turned around and saw them there.

Anya was a little different, though. She saw Edmund for who he was, not who she wanted him to be once she had gotten to know him. What's more, she was an even match for him. She was quick enough to beat him at chess once or twice and give him a good game nearly every time. She was as witty and as smart. When I saw them together, his black head bent to her brown one as they pored over some piece of information, I wondered if Edmund could be happy with her. I hoped this would be the one time he saw someone.

He didn't. He was so immersed in finding information and plotting to oust Galma that he couldn't see anything so close to him. That was always Edmund's problem; he saw the big picture, the world around him, but he could never see anything close to him. It made me sad, in a way, because Edmund deserved happiness as much as any of the rest of us.

I thought about this question of happiness. Do we have a right to work for our own happiness if we are Kings and Queens? The time before we had lived half full lives. Only Peter married, but he had no children. I was innocent, Edmund was blind. Susan had found someone to honestly love her at last, and there was even a wedding planned before we followed the Stag, but of course she never danced at her wedding. I had seen her dance with her betrothed, though, her face alight. He wasn't a genteel man; he was a great bear of a noble woodsman. People would have thought him more suited to me than her, but he loved her. He had the warmest smile that he reserved just for her, and we were all sure that they would have a veritable litter of children. Susan was thrilled by the prospect. I started with the memory of Susan stroking her stomach and smiling secretly. I had never thought of it before, but now that I had done it, I wondered if perhaps she had lain with him. If perhaps there _was_ a baby, if that was why she didn't want to go any further after the Stag. If that was why she was so bitter when we came back. Had she lost a child? I chewed my thumbnail with a rising sense of panic. Did Aslan punish her? What if I was with child? Would he punish me?

My stomach clenched hard once, and then again. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom and found that the pain was not just from panic—my courses had come. So I could not be with child. Still, I wondered. What would send us back? We were on borrowed time; we had almost gone back when we reached the end of the world. I didn't know why Aslan had called us back to England the first time, and I didn't know what would make us go now. And if we went, I would become a girl again. I would lose Caspian. I didn't know what our mission here was, but I wanted it to go on forever, just to have the chance to stay.


	15. The Old Alliance Part II

_The Old Alliance – Part 2_

_(Edmund)_

Archenland was a puzzle alright, but I had never let a puzzle get the best of me. I remembered one time when I challenged the brightest men in the kingdom to come up with a riddle I couldn't solve. None of them could do it. Peter was always on at me about being too boastful about my intelligence, informing me that he never bragged to being a good swordsman.

"Ah, but you admit that you _are_ a good swordsman," I would retort, and he would huff away knowing he was defeated.

Anya teased me about it too. She squinted at me over the chessboard, twirling her Queen in the air. "You fancy yourself quite clever, don't you?"

I waited for her to put the Queen down and moved my castle immediately in reply. It was the move I had been waiting for her to make. "It's not fancy. It's truth."

She tipped her head back and laughed richly, so richly that I had to chuckle myself. I was surprised at this—not many people could pull a laugh out of me; I was usually the one to make the jokes. I stroked my nose with the crook of my forefinger while I watched her ponder her next move. "Humility is a very mistaken idea," I said. "People think one has to be humble about everything and never boast. But really, humility is knowing your weaknesses."

Anya arched an eyebrow. "What, then, are yours?"

I tilted my head and squinted at her. Something about her keen gaze and her pert mouth made my stomach give a little leap. I wondered what this meant. Was it the sort of thing one felt when they were attracted to someone? The idea of finding Anya attractive was a bit too much—I called on Tristan to finish the game and went for a walk, trying to clear my head and plot the next move. After all, that was what we were here for, and I was not about to be distracted.

As I was walking along the ramparts, I heard voices, and quickly recognized Sebastien and Nain talking. I knew a knight could never eavesdrop and so I did not hide, but I made no move to go forward and uncover myself, either.

"Think about it, your Majesty," Sebastien was saying in an oily voice. "Our countries stand to benefit so much from each other. Your son and Renna seem to like each other very much, and you should remember that Renna comes with a handsome dowry."

I tried not to think what Lucy would say to the idea of a dowry, because it would have made me laugh.

"All of this is true…"Nain was saying slowly. I pursed my lips as I listened—was that a note of hesitation I detected in his voice?

"There is another advantage," Sebastien continued, dropping his voice, "We would have Narnia pinned between us. That could be a very great advantage."

"Are you suggesting a war?" Nain thundered with indignance. I rubbed my chin, considering what this meant. It seemed Nain did not like backhanded dealings or even the idea of starting a war with no cause. I stored this information away.

"Not a war, exactly. But we could put pressure on them. Turn the situation to our advantage. We could—" at that moment he broke off and rounded the bend and saw me. "Edmund," he said, eyeing me shrewdly before giving an obsequious bow. "I wasn't aware you had been listening."

I glanced at Nain, and he crossed his arms, looking thunderous. Briefly, I wished for Peter who could easily speak to Nain's clear sense of honor and fair play. There was only me, though, and I had to pacify him. "Not purposefully," I answered, looking at Nain and not Sebastien. "I was walking on the ramparts too." I glanced then at Sebastien, who was prepared to retort. He read people well enough not to push the issue or I would challenge him about what he had said. Instead, he excused himself on the pretext of seeing his sister.

When he was gone, Nain raised his eyebrows in challenge. I gave him a little smile. "I assure you, your Majesty, our meeting is completely by chance. Narnians have never been ones for spying, and my royal brother expressly forbade it."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Is that so? Then explain to me why I ferreted out a spy of Miraz's in my court."

I smiled and shrugged. "Miraz was no Narnian."

"And his nephew? He is?" Nain's mouth was twisted in a skeptical grimace.

I nodded slowly but surely. I hadn't really thought about my faith in Caspian before, I had always just accepted it since Trumpkin told us who he was. When I thought about the king Caspian had become and how worthy he was of his birthright, I had to smile a little.

"Do you find something amusing?" Nain asked.

I checked myself—I could see he was losing patience, and this was the audience I had longed for at last. I had to turn things to my advantage, but that was tricky because clearly he wasn't a man who liked being manipulated. I thought about Peter's dealings with diplomats, how little he suffered double talk. I thought Nain would appreciate a straightforward style, and I summoned my brother. "No," I said sincerely, and the accent in my voice sounded strange to me. "I was only thinking how much I admire King Caspian. You'll find no double dealings or spying with him." I thought to mention Sebastien at this point and turn the King against him, but I realized that probably wouldn't work. Instead, I walked over to the railing and looked over the castle vineyards. "Do you think it will be a good vintage this year?"

Nain frowned his confusion. "Come again?"

I gestured over the vines rustling in the night breeze. "The wine. I always loved Archenlandish wine best. My sister Lucy calls me unpatriotic, but let's face facts—your wine far outstrips the Narnian vintage. Too light, the Narnians make it."

To my delight, he chuckled. "Do you water your wine then?"

"Never!" I cried, and he laughed more heartily, clapping me on the back. "Come then…you should see the wine stores. I confess, I don't know how to believe you are who you say you are—a king from a thousand years ago. But whoever you are, at least you have good taste."

It was strange, winning a diplomatic victory by being forthright. That never had been my style; I played politics like others played cards, keeping my hand a secret. Though I remained watchful all while Nain gave me a tour of the royal cellars, I couldn't help but marvel at the effectiveness of the tactic.

Lucy was ecstatic when she heard of our progress. She clapped her hands, and I knew that the only thing preventing her from throwing her arms around me was that she knew I would push her away. I laughed at her expression and hugged her anyway. "Don't get too excited," I murmured to her. "But it's a start."

--x—

Tristan and Anya proved themselves useful. Tristan got closer to Sebastien than I ever could. Though I never found out exactly what the Prince of Galma had up his sleeve, Tristan confirmed that something was up. He listened carefully to whatever Sebastien said and told me a very valuable piece of information. "He slanders Narnia at every chance he gets, mentioning their recent dealings with you. Wensted is listening. I feel sure, King Edmund, that if an alliance is forged between Galma and Archenland, there will be no room for one with Narnia. Sebastien will see to it."

I worried about this. I couldn't figure out why Sebastien would be so against anyone forming an alliance with Narnia. He was too smart to play bitter games of resentment over our failed alliance, so what was he doing? The mystery deepened, and while I couldn't figure it out, my resolve to reforge the alliance with Archenland only strengthened.

Anya stayed close to the happy couple, trying to ascertain exactly what their feelings were for each other and pump Renna for as much information as she could. I didn't expect her to uncover much from these investigations; I doubted Wensted and Sebastien, who I privately believed was the true mastermind behind any plan, would trust her with any vital information.

"I can't help but feel sorry for Renna," Anya was saying as we strolled through the berry patches behind Lucy and Aravis.

I snorted. "Sorry for her? I wouldn't feel too terrible. She's not really worth it." I bent to pull a handful of raspberries and offered them to her in the palm of my hand.

She smiled a bit as she bent over to take one and shrugged as she popped it into her mouth. "Still. Her position is a cruel one, being bartered all over the world like that."

I watched Lucy dancing down the path and laughing, and I pursed my lips. "It wasn't like that in my day." I continued to muse. "We could have married Susan and Lucy off and made many an advantage, but we never even dreamed of it."

"You love your sister very dearly," she mused. I turned to look at her and her eyes were soft. I thought of passing off the comment with a wry remark or a joke, but I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Lucy capering through the plants and pelting Aravis jokingly with fruit. My lips twitched, and I thought of joining in.

I looked back at Anya, and I nodded wordlessly. She didn't say anything awkward or sentimental so I didn't feel too much worse for letting my feelings show.

"I don't think Sebastien cares about Renna in that way," she mused, taking another berry from my palm. Her fingers tickled a little.

"He doesn't; you can be sure of that. She's a pawn."

"Exactly! And so you don't feel bad for her?" Anya turned to me, her eyes sparking because she believed she had won a point.

I shrugged. "Pity, maybe. But she's not exactly free of guile."

"But her circumstances," Anya pressed. "Having to marry a man she doesn't love, going away from everyone she knows."

I realized Anya was talking about herself, and that a great sadness hung over her. I tilted my head. "How did you come to be engaged in that way?" I asked. I winced inwardly at how awkward I sounded, but really I've never been good at talking about these sorts of things. Susan was the one to have around at a time like this.

She shrugged and sauntered forward a few paces, nudging the plants aside with her toes. "The way it happens for everyone, I suppose. I'm from a poor family. He's fifteen years my senior but filthy rich. It's an alliance." She kept her eyes down and her mouth pursed.

I rubbed my palms on my breeches, searching for something to say. I knew she was sad, and I guessed that she probably wanted to hear some comforting words, but what those comforting words were, I didn't know. Susan would have done something like put her arm around Anya and say something to cheer her. The best I could come up with was "He can't really be _so_ bad." I twisted my mouth, fairly sure this was the wrong thing to say.

She gave me a wry look over her shoulder. "He doesn't believe in women reading," she informed me, and continued to stroll away.

"No!" I exclaimed, chasing after her. Anya and I had already had several philosophical discussions, and she had lent me some newer Archenlandish books so I could brush up. Most of my literary knowledge was 1,300 years old, after all. "But you're so smart! Surely he can see that."

She drew a breath she did not exhale. "Apparently a woman's brain is a useless organ." She reached up and pulled a leaf off a branch hanging above her. "We're purely ornamental, you know."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Don't let Lucy know—she'd be on the warpath."

"And you aren't?" she inquired archly.

I smiled. "I am too. But I'm more subtle about it."

Her appraising look swept me up and down, cool and detached. Then all at once she broke into a bright smile and touched my arm. "A hero who arrives under the cover of night. That's new." She winked, and I wondered if a kiss would end her pertness.

This was very disturbing to think. I couldn't remember the last girl I had wanted to kiss, or even when that was. Susan would have known what to do with the feeling. She would have known the move to make to throw the other person off track and how to bide her time, but I was stuck, frozen scared of the feeling and unsure what to do about that. After a very tense moment, Lucy called me, and I was glad of it.

Later that night I paced in my room, burying my hands in my hair. This was a bad time to feel anything. In my personal opinion it was always a bad time for romance. Romance was distracting and disconcerting. Perhaps it was a nice indulgence, but I was a King of Narnia. I never had time to indulge. I wished for Susan to soothe me; I longed for Peter's advice. When they were around I wished they were gone so I could be free to do things my way. Now they were far away in another world, and I wanted their advice and comfort. I was trying to unravel diplomacy and romantic entanglements and was only getting involved myself.

I scowled and threw myself into bed, staring at the ceiling. "Edmund Pevensie," I said aloud, my voice sharp and wry. "You are the King of Irony."

--X—

For the next few days I avoided Anya and concentrated instead on King Nain. He was friendlier to me, certainly, but I knew that he was still cautious of Narnians. Furthermore, he continued to entertain Sebastien, often in private, and that disconcerted me. I wanted to know what they were talking about, but I didn't dare spy. I wondered if Caspian could do anything to convince him, and I thought of writing him to bid him to come. But then I reflected that Nain's mistrust might spark Caspian's temper, and I decided against that.

"We're at an impasse," I told Lucy as we walked in the garden. "We need to move forward, but I don't know how."

She rubbed her forehead, thinking. Lucy had a rather endearing way of looking very confused before she said something quite intelligent. "What we want is to renew the treaty with Archenland, but Sebastien is standing in our way. As long as he's here, we'll never get that treaty signed."

"I don't know how much Nain likes him, but his poisonous words are enough to make the King doubt us," I answered.

"We need proof. Proof of our old friendship, proof that Caspian will uphold it. Proof that we are a King and Queen of old. But what will be enough for Nain, who doubts so much? And why does he doubt so much?" She stared past me, pondering this with narrowed eyes.

"Miraz," I said grimly. We exchanged a look. "I know that at the very least he sent a spy to Nain's court. Who knows what else he tried? I wouldn't be surprised if there were plans for an invasion."

Lucy balled her fists and clenched her jaw. "All we worked for, all we built—the Telmarines destroyed it all." She stayed quiet for a moment, and then her face cleared and she nodded, agreeing to one of her own thoughts. "Then I suppose the only thing is to build it up again."

I grinned and ruffled her hair. "You're a wonder, Lu." She gave my arm a playful punch.

Aravis came then and pulled her away to show her some unexplored part of the castle. Lucy winked at me; there was no corner she had not already unearthed with Corin a millennium before, but she followed willingly enough. I let her go smilingly—Lucy's friendship with Aravis might prove to be useful. This thought made me frown a bit, because I wondered if this game was making me too mercenary. I sank down on a bench and pulled out my tablet and a pencil that I always had on me, sketching out the possible strategies I could take.

Anya found me in the same spot several hours later. I had succeeded in giving myself a cracking headache, but once I began I refused to stop until I had the perfect solution. She cast a shadow on my paper, and I looked up to see her shading her eyes against the bright sun. I rested my elbow on my knee and squinted up at her, greeting her wordlessly.

"I have something to show you," she announced, and I moved over on the bench, indicating that she should sit next to me. She sat and passed me a letter. "My fiancé wrote me. Apparently, Sebastien is working on more than just Nain."

I scanned the letter hurriedly and saw that Sebastien made many promises of rewards for loyalty paid to him. I rubbed my temple. What was he planning? Did he intend to lead a rebellion against Nain should Nain side with us? I handed the letter back to Anya.

She folded it carefully. "He expects me to be a good wife and obey him in all things. I am to do my duty and court the favors of Prince Sebastien." She snorted.

I took the letter again carefully, my fingers brushing hers. Our eyes met for a second, but I looked away, perusing the letter again. This time I caught the pompous tone with which Anya's fiancé, some Lord Grenval, addressed her. He wrote as if she could not understand large words and if she was perfectly stupid, waiting for his guidance and attention. It was enough to make my stomach churn. "When did Archenland come to think so little of its women?" I demanded. "Has everyone forgotten Queen Aravis completely?"

She shrugged, and her shoulders were tight, her lips white from being pressed together. I could guess what was upsetting her, but as I never really trusted my intuitions of sympathy I felt I needed to ask. "What's wrong?" I laid my hand lightly, tentatively on her shoulder.

She sniffed lightly and tossed her head. "I didn't think it mattered much who I married. Cole and Tristan both fancied me at one point or another, but I didn't care for them. So when my father told me I was going to marry, I wasn't too bothered. Then I met him, but I figured I could make the best of things—lots of husbands and wives live practically separate lives in the same castle, and Grenval's estates are vast." She broke off, her cheeks very pale.

"So what changed?" I prompted.

I could tell this was the wrong question from the way she stiffened. She turned to look at me, and her eyes were very bright. I really hoped she wouldn't start crying because then I'd be at a complete loss for what to do. Slowly she opened her mouth, and I found I was staring, intensely curious about what she was going to say.

And then Lucy came running out, breathless and flushed with excitement. "Edmund. Come quick. I think we've found something."

I frowned and looked at Anya, whose face had closed off. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, intending to bring her along though I didn't know why. "Show me, then," I said to Lucy, and she led us into the castle at a pace so quick we were all but running.

We went through the twisting, ancient passages of Anvard, and even Anya was surprised to see them. She looked around in astonishment and murmured, "I spent years playing in this castle and I've never been here before."

"You'd be surprised at how many new things in life have been staring you in the face for years," I replied. I noticed we were still holding hands.

"Edmund, this is not a time for philosophy!" Lucy chided a few paces ahead. "I tell you I've found something." She pushed open a door.

Clearly Lucy and Aravis had unearthed an ancient records room. The room was musty smelling, but dry, and there was no light from windows which could damage the papers—papers which lay around in piles and files, both arranged and in disarray. Aravis sat in the midst of all this, perching cross legged on the table and wearing a look of triumph. "Read this!" She brandished a paper.

I stepped forward and took it from her. As I scanned the paper, my lips moved, and Anya urged softly, "Aloud." So I began to read.

_My husband Cor, the delight of my eyes,_

_I hope that all is well back at Anvard. Do not let the farmers harass you too much—they think they know best for the country but in truth have very little idea of the larger issues at hand and the trade we must undertake for the good of the nation. Of course we must bring in certain crops from Narnia. Should they become too insistent, instruct them to wait and I shall hear the case with you. You are a good deal too soft with everyone, my love._

_Be sure that you keep an eye on Ram. I am worried he may be slack in his lessons and a lazy prince makes for a poor King. He should be working hard while I am away, and you must not let him give you any excuses. As I say, you are too soft._

_I send my greetings and my cautions and of course my love, but I took up my pen to write to you with a specific purpose in mind. In my travels here to the south of the country, I find that some of the lords and nobles have renewed the practice of strategic marriage, allying their families through wedding their sons and daughters and giving dowries. It is not enough to merely voice our disapproval. We must forbid the practice altogether. If one family wishes to ally with another, let them draw up a treaty, not barter their daughters. This is what I fled from, and I would not have Archenland become like the land of my birth. Let us preserve all our barbarian ways and stray more towards becoming like our northern cousins in Narnia. Let us end using young girls as trinkets of diplomacy. Think on it, Cor—you would not wed Ram to a girl he does not love, nor would you sell our daughter, our own Marianne, for an advantageous alliance. I say again, the practice must be stopped altogether, and I urge to write an edict expressing that. A woman should be allowed to marry the choice of her heart. I escaped being bartered and did just that, and I am a most happy woman._

_Thy wife evermore,_

_Aravis_

I looked up from the letter at each of their faces. Lucy's was shining—in half a second we discussed the letter with looks, what this meant, how to use it. Aravis was beaming, and she leaned forward to take the paper and read it over, full of admiration for her namesake. Last of all I looked to Anya. There were tears in her eyes, but otherwise her face seemed impassive. A strange impulse to cup her cheek took hold of me, but I curbed it and curled my hand around her upper arm instead. "It shouldn't happen. It _won't_ happen," I assured her.

Her brow grew tight and she nodded and ducked her head. I was afraid she would cry in earnest, and then I really wouldn't know what to do. Despite my awkwardness though, something in my heart went out to her. I prayed this was the key to a freedom she didn't dare dream of seeking. I squeezed her arm, trying to think of something to say.

In the end Aravis interrupted the moment, by murmuring as she reached the end of the letter. "The choice of her heart. Queen Lucy, do _you_ have a choice of your heart? Who would you pick to marry?"

Lucy had begun rifling through some papers, and she looked up now, blushing absolutely scarlet. She glanced at me, then back at Aravis. "Oh…I don't know. I'm a good deal too young to be thinking of that."

Whenever Lucy lies it's painfully obvious. Probably that's one of the reasons she doesn't do it very much, in addition to her strict moral code. Or perhaps it is her faultless honesty which makes her a bad liar. Either way I knew she was thinking of Caspian, and had been in all likelihood since I first read the letter. I almost snorted, but then I stopped. This was Lucy, seriously considering marriage. The virgin queen, the perpetual girl no longer. I knew I could list all of Caspian's faults, the way that he hurt her just a few short weeks before, but she wouldn't care. Her eyes were shining secretly, and the idea was staggering.

"I know Anya wouldn't pick Lord Grenval!" Aravis declared with an innocent laugh.

Anya quickly wiped away her tears with the crook of her finger. "No. There are…other choices, however."

Aravis jumped on this at once. "Who? Cole? Surely not—you're too smart for him. Tristan! You've always secretly been in love with him, haven't you?"

She shook her head, laughing a bit. And then she glanced at me, and a terrifying possibility opened up. All these things that I was feeling—these little bursts of nervousness and warmth and…well, affection—was she feeling them too? And what did that mean? I gave her a shaky smile in return and went over to Lucy to help her look through the stack of papers she had before her.

"I'm looking for the treaty," she explained. "The one that Peter and Lune signed after Anvard."

"I know it," I answered, sounding snappish. "I wrote it."

She rolled her eyes. "It's alright if you like her, you know. You're allowed to fall in love."

I frowned and continued to rifle through the papers. "Do you suppose all these Narnian papers are in here because they wanted them hidden from the Telmarines? It could be that when the Telmarine ambassadors came after conquering Narnia, Archenland wanted to hide evidence of their alliance with Old Narnia to protect themselves."

Lucy placed a sheet before me and at a glance I saw it was the treaty I had been searching for. I could see Lune and Peter's signatures and seals at the bottom, and below Peter's, the remnants of mine, Susan's, and Lucy's. Some of the seals were crumbling—the wax had grown brittle and dry. I looked up at Lucy to thank her, but she was gazing at me sharply.

"People often hide the truth of their feelings to protect themselves," she informed me.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," I retorted.

"So long as you get the point." She arched an eyebrow. She nodded me to Anya and I cursed myself for turning.

Anya was looking at the letter now, fingering it thoughtfully. "It's odd that such documents remained so well preserved for so long. They ought to disintegrate under our fingers, really."

"Well, the room's been sealed," I reasoned. "And it's very dry. With no one disturbing it for hundreds of years, it's the perfect place to preserve everything."

"Or perhaps it's a sort of magic," Lucy offered. "Bury it though you may, your true self never disappears."

"Your sister is quite the poet," Anya murmured to me.

I started to roll my eyes and comment, but a shout in the hall interrupted me. It was Tristan, and he was calling urgently, "Anya! King Edmund! Queen Lucy!"

We all tumbled into the hall. I made sure to seal the room shut behind us to keep the documents preserved. Magic or not, a little good sense would only help. Tristan was looking ruffled and urgent, and he looked to me and Lucy at once.

"They're doing it now—signing the betrothal. It will all be set in stone in five minutes' time."

"What?!" I demanded. "How can this be? Shouldn't we have known?" Before Tristan even answered, I remembered all the private audiences Sebastien had gained that I had not been privy to. Nain might respond well to honesty, but that wouldn't stop Sebastien from insinuating himself into all the corners, whatever it took.

Tristan gulped some air—clearly he had run to tell us. "I don't know. I thought things were at an impasse—the King seemed so reluctant to deal with Sebastien. But just now I was walking with Cole and he told me it was all happening today, and he went away to do his part. I didn't ask how or why; I didn't dare waste time."

"We have to go then, now. We can't lose this. Not now," Lucy vowed.

Anya was still holding Aravis' letter, and I the treaty. All five of us took off at full pelt, following Tristan's lead. The guards tried to stop us entering the room, but Tristan and I parried them easily with our swords, pushing them back while Lucy burst into the room. "King Nain, I beg you, stop."

Nain was seated at a table with Sebastien standing over his shoulder. Cole and Renna were grouped together close by, watching the proceedings with their hands clasped. Everyone looked up as we entered. Nain's face hardened, but that was nothing compared to Sebastien's thunderous expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Renna's face was an echo of her brother's, only she was turning all her anger towards Lucy.

"What is the meaning of this, Edmund?" Nain demanded, rising from his seat.

I stopped and bowed as charmingly as I could. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but if you are about to do what I think you are, it will be a grave mistake."

"And what is it you think I am doing?" His voice was rumbling with anger.

"Signing the papers to betroth Cole to Renna," I answered simply.

"How did you know?" Sebastien demanded. "Have you been spying?"

He knew exactly what to say. At this Nain grew dangerously angery. He opened his mouth and I'm quite sure his next words would have been orders to throw us out of the castle had not Tristan spoken up.

"It was not spying, your Majesty. Cole told me, and I told them."

Nain shook his head. "I don't understand, Tristan. What business is it of yours?"

"I feel as Princess Aravis does—I am sympathetic to the Narnians, and believe they only come here seeking friendship."

Sebastien snorted. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Lucy said firmly. "That's all." She took a step forward, bringing the letter with her. "Your Majesty, look at this letter. Queen Aravis wrote to King Cor expressly forbidding using marriage as a tool of diplomacy."

Nain frowned and took the paper from her. He had scarcely begun to read it when there was a shriek of anger from Renna. She stepped forward, her face red and her hands balled into fists. "No! You will not ruin this for me again! You stole Caspian from me—I won't let you have Cole too!"

"Stole?" Nain repeated sharply.

Lucy shook her head. "No. Not stole. He was the choice of my heart, and I the choice of his. Caspian never professed to loving Renna."

Cole was frowning. "I thought…I thought I was the first," he murmured, and I had to feel bad for him. I knew what it was like coming in second to someone more dazzling. I stepped forward, cutting this thread of conversation short.

"As you can see from the letter, alliances and marriages should be separate, or so hold the ancient traditions of Archenland." I could feel Anya's eyes on me. "And in the vein of those ancient traditions, this is a treaty written after the Battle of Anvard binding Narnia and Archenland as friends and allies." I put the treaty before him.

"Where did you find these?" Nain asked, frowning.

"I found them, Father! There's a secret room full of records, and King Edmund said all these old records were sealed up when the Telmarines first came as ambassadors of Narnia," Aravis piped up enthusiastically.

"Look at the signatures," I said. "This treaty shows the old friendship between Narnia and Archenland, reinforced by the four monarchs. I know it seems impossible that we are they, but it is true. Watch." I signed a scrap of paper and nodded for Lucy to do the same. "There is no way we could produce two forgeries before your very eyes."

Nain was speechless, comparing the signatures. "But how—" he stammered.

"Through Aslan, and only through him," Lucy declared.

"We are the ones who restored Caspian to his rightful place as King. Miraz was nothing more than a usurper," I added. "Believe us, and believe in him."

Sebastien's eyes were narrowed. "What are you trying to do, Edmund? What do you hope to accomplish?"

"It's King Edmund, actually. Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia," I said this more for Nain's benefit than Sebastien's. "All we want, all we have ever desired is to renew that old friendship." I gave him a look which told him I plainly questioned his motives. Sebastien ground his teeth in return.

Nain sighed and put the papers down. "I'm afraid that given all this we must redraw the contracts. If Cole and Renna choose each other, then they can marry, but clearly I cannot put trade agreements and military allegiance into a marriage document."

That one phrase, military allegiance, told me more than I expected. I didn't realize just how dangerous the alliance could be, if they were planning on being comrades in arms. I was almost weak with relief. Renna and Sebastien were spluttering with rage and indignation, but Tristan distracted me from that. "Your Majesty, what about Anya? She's being sold in marriage too."

Suddenly I wanted to know the answer to this very question. Nain nodded. "Of course, if she speaks against the match, then it will be nullified."

"I do," Anya said at once. She was shaking with relief and very pale. "I do speak against it. I can't marry him. I…I…" Then, to my astonishment, she fainted dead away.

* * *

_A/N: Two chapters in less than two months! I told you all I was on a roll with this. Actually I had a brainwave the other week and revamped the rest of the story, which I'm now quite excited to write, so stay tuned. Hopefully I'll have this done before the summer is out, but we'll see. Props go to Andi Horton--it was her idea that they find something from Cor and Aravis' day, and I took it and ran with the idea. Sorry for the length, but as you can see there's a lot going on. It was also difficult weaving two storylines, the diplomatic one and Edmund's personal one plus connect all this to stuff I'd written years ago, so I hope it all comes together well. If not, let me know--constructive criticism is a good thing. Thanks everyone, for all your support with this story. It really presses me to go forward.  
_


	16. Homecoming

_Homecoming_

_(Lucy)_

It must have been close to two o'clock in the morning when I finally sat down to write Caspian the news of our reforged alliance with Archenland. I gave a sigh of satisfaction as I laid the blank sheet before me and dipped my pen in ink.

I got as far as "Dear Caspian, What a lot I have to tell you!" and then I stopped. There was too much to say; it all came bubbling to the surface at once. My pen couldn't fly across the page fast enough; my thoughts couldn't come together. I had to tell him about the events of the day, how we came to sign the treaty with Nain. I wanted to gossip about Renna and Sebastien's reactions, and share my feeling of triumph that we had won out in the end, for Narnia.

I glanced at Aravis' ancient letter, which I had brought back to my room, and smiled. It was so familiar and intimate. I laughed to see her chiding Cor as she always had, but I saw also the love behind her words. My eyes lingered over the phrase "the choice of my heart," and I remembered Aravis' namesake's innocent question of before. Did I know the choice of my heart? There was something else I wanted to tell Caspian, but I couldn't find the words. When the world came to court my sister, I heard every variation of love letter possible: poems, songs, parables. One intrepid artist even drew a map of the path he would take to his lady's heart, representing obstacles such as scorn and distance as forests and mountains. With all these words that coated love in a sickly syrup, how could I find any that were true?

I got up and went to the balcony to take some air. I breathed in the fresh pine air, hoping it would clear my head, but it didn't quite work. I thought of Caspian standing behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, what he might say of the scent. I knew he wouldn't fail to notice it. I considered how I might describe it to him when I sat down to write again.

Before I could get very far in my daydream, I was interrupted by gentle laughter down in the garden below. I peered over the railing and saw that it was Edmund strolling with Anya. I couldn't help but smile.

"I had no idea you were so agile, your Majesty," Anya was saying. I couldn't decide if Edmund was blushing or preening at this, and I couldn't see to tell. Their figures were only dimly illuminated by the moon.

"It's one of my strengths," Edmund answered. So he was preening, then. I rolled my eyes. " I frequently have to save fainting maidens."

"Oh really?" she said through laughter. "I would think with so much practice you'd have figured out that the knight is supposed to kiss the maiden to wake her, not slap her!" I laughed a bit, thinking of how Anya fainted away when Nain pronounced her freedom and Edmund caught her in her swoon. After calling to her, he smacked her cheek gently to rouse her.

Edmund laughed, but I also saw his posture stiffen. "I can't help it if the lady is so stubborn she won't wake," he parried.

Anya laughed merrily, but then she grew a bit more sober. I saw that she was biting on her lip. "But you didn't even try the more traditional method," she said softly. "Who knows what might have happened if you had." I wondered if she was daring herself to say these things. If Edmund wasn't my brother I would find him intimidating. She turned away to stroll down the path, casting one well timed backwards glance over her shoulder.

I wasn't very good at flirting really. There were times when I felt desire and when I was sure Caspian felt it too as we laughed or talked together. There were also moments when I had caught him staring at me, but I hadn't done anything conscious to attract his attention. I wouldn't know how to begin if I wanted to try. Anya, however, knew this game of flirtation, and she played it pitch perfect with Edmund. As she turned away for the second time, he took half a step towards her. After a moment's hesitation, he followed her down the path. The idea of Edmund following anyone by their own design and not his was staggering. I wanted to cheer Anya for having tamed Edmund a bit.

Edmund caught her elbow lightly, with just the tips of his fingers. "I didn't realize I had missed an opportunity."

She looked up at him slowly. I had to admire the art in it, the raising of her eyes, the tilting back of her head as if to really look at him. If I tried that with Caspian I would have burst out laughing. And yet I couldn't help but feel that though she was working by design, there was an earnestness behind that, that she was trying to get what she really wanted after being denied her own wishes for so long.

"Perhaps it has not passed you by entirely," she murmured, her face still upturned.

I could almost see Edmund tremble. I leaned further over the balcony railing, chanting "Kiss her…kiss her…" under my breath.

Edmund looked at her for a long time, wavering indecisively. They were quite close, but he did nothing to close the distance. Neither did he draw away. From where I stood, I could see he was stiff with tension. Edmund never did know how to give in to emotion.

It was Anya who made the next move. She stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I want to thank you," she said. "I don't know what I would have done spending my life with Lord Grenval."

Edmund smiled weakly, nervously. "He didn't half deserve you." His tone was gruff, but I knew that came from honesty.

"Thank you." Anya kept looking steadily into his face, her eyes wide and hopeful. Then she dropped them. "The trouble is, I don't half deserve the man I'm falling for." She stroked his shoulder, and the look on her face left no question as to who she meant.

Edmund pressed his lips together and lifted her chin. "Don't say that," he said softly. "You don't know."

Anya opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes quieted her. Instead of speaking, she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. He stiffened, staring at her with wide eyes. Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.

I smiled and withdrew to leave them along. "At last," I murmured.

I knew a romance was blossoming without Edmund saying anything to me. As we set about restoring the friendship between Narnia and Archenland, consoling Cole and rewriting treaties, they always found time to be together. Their heads would be bent over the same book in the evenings; they would laugh over an even matched game of chess and then leave it off abruptly to take a walk.

Edmund was different. He smiled and laughed, and even in quiet moments he looked deeply happy. I had never seen that in him before. The changes were subtle; Edmund would never be one to broadcast to the world that he was in love. But as his sister, I knew.

Anya was a good match for Edmund, witty and clever and pretty. She wasn't ever sentimental, which Edmund hated—he used to avoid Susan like the plague when he had a soppy moment. I liked her myself—we were a similar sort of girl, the kind who could spend hours discussing which arrows we preferred and practicing archery, but who also weren't immune to a pretty dress.

Things seemed to be going so well that I was thoroughly confused when one day Edmund announced "Our work is done. We'll leave for Cair Paravel tomorrow."

I thought of seeing Caspian again at last, and my heart leapt. At the same moment though, I thought about Edmund's recent happiness, and I had to say "But what about—"

"Our work here is done," he said shortly, cutting me off.

So quite suddenly we found ourselves saying goodbye to the Archenlanders. Nain sent us off with provisions for our journey and gifts for Caspian. When Aravis hugged me, she said brightly "I've made Father promise to take me when he comes for a state visit. So we shall see each other again."

"Of course we shall!" I replied warmly. "And in the meantime, I'll write, and you must reply."

"I will!" Aravis agreed with a nod and a bright smile. I liked that she could make a parting joyful. They were usually so sad.

Aravis stepped away, and I looked around to check for someone I had overlooked. Anya was standing apart from everyone in an alcove, and she beckoned to me. I stole a quick glance at Edmund to make sure he was occupied with Nain and hurried over to her. She was pale and drawn, as she was when I first met her, before her inner spark came out with Edmund. I waited for her to speak. Something had to have happened between her and Edmund, but it was impossible to ask about such things.

"I wanted to ask you a favor," she said. She held out a square of paper. "give this to your brother. And tell him…tell him I'll wait."

I couldn't stop myself from asking "For what?"

"For him," she said simply. She turned to go, but I laid a hand on her arm, holding her back.

"I'll give him the message," I promised. "But Anya, what happened? You're so well-matched. He really seemed to like you."

"I don't know," she said softly. She looked down and her brows drew together. I noticed that for all her spark and wit, there was something delicate about her. "One day he says he loves me, and the next he says he's leaving."

I frowned. I almost exclaimed in surprise, but then I thought that Edmund's admission of love wasn't especially surprising, nor was his hasty departure afterwards. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "He may come round yet," I told her.

Her eyes lit up with hope. "Do you think so?"

"I hope so," I answered.

As we rode away, I looked back and saw Anya's face. She was staring at Edmund so intensely I swore he must have felt it, but he sat ramrod straight in his saddle and didn't turn.

Watching Anya as we rode away made me think of Caspian when Aslan had commanded Ed, Eustace and I to sail on without him. I watched him for as long as I could, aching to comfort him. He stood still as a stone statue, leaning over the bows of the ship. That picture sent shivers down my spine. I wondered how Edmund could not turn around.

Finally I could keep quiet no longer. "Anya gave me a message for you," I began. I waited, but Edmund remained stubbornly silent. "She says she'll wait." Still nothing. "Ed?"

He shook his head. "Stay out of it, Lu." With that, he kicked his horse and sped into a canter.

I followed suit. "What happened?" I asked when I caught up with him. "You were falling for her."

"You don't know that," he said sullenly.

"Yes, I do! I'm not some diplomat or courtier. This is our second lifetime together. I _know_ you, Edmund Pevensie, and I know you were falling in love with her. So why did you leave?"

"You wouldn't understand," he responded sullenly.

I rolled my eyes and tutted. "I'm not a child, you know."

He gripped the reins and held them hard. "No, you're a _woman_ now, aren't you?"

I gaped at him. Was he really throwing my lying with Caspian in my face after he had been so kind and comforted me? I was so angry I spat back at him an old sibling retort that could nettle any one of the four of us. "You're just jealous!"

This hit home. He looked at me, and his face was pale and his cheeks red. "You've no idea, Lucy. Just leave it alone." With that, he trotted a few paces ahead.

"Oh fine! But you can as good as call me a tart!" I yelled after him. He ignored me.

We rode in angry silence until we stopped to camp that night. We had been making camp together for so long that we went about our tasks wordlessly, in harmony even though we were angry. As I roasted the fish on sticks, frowning into the fire, he finally sat down next to me. I threw him an angry glance and then went back to my task.

Finally as I handed him his fish, he said reluctantly. "I don't think you're a tart. You should know better." Edmund's apologies were always grumpy.

"You shouldn't have said that," I informed him, still piqued.

"Well, you shouldn't have gone sticking your nose in my business!"

I sighed with exasperation and turned to him. "Anya _asked_ me to! And apparently someone's got to goose you along because you won't let yourself be happy."

He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't. Do you care to enlighten me?"

"Not really. You wouldn't understand even then. Things are perfect for you," Edmund leaned back on his elbows and his voice was sullen, but his expression wistful.

I snorted. "Hardly."

"Oh, come off it, Lu. So the two of you had one little hiccup after things started up. When you parted everything seemed perfect again. You've been in love with each other since the _Dawn Treader._" When I opened my mouth to protest, he added a coda. "Even if you couldn't see it."

"So that makes me unsympathetic?" I said. Despite my earlier anger, I was softening. I was worried about Edmund.

"Basically." He twirled a blade of grass and stared into the flames, ignoring his half finished supper. "There are some people who are made to fall in love and some people who aren't. I'm not."

I raised an eyebrow. "I was the virgin queen."

"No one would have called you that if Caspian was there the first time," He answered.

I laid on my back and sighed. Clearly Edmund was in one of his stubborn moods and wouldn't listen to the most logical of reasoning. I stared up at the stars, counting the constellations and wondering what could shake my brother into realizing he was just as much 'made for love' as I or anyone else. Why did he keep sabotaging his own happiness?

After awhile, I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. For a moment he was immobile, but then slowly, without turning his head, he laid his hand over mine.

The next morning I woke first, as usual. For awhile I lay still and stared up at the pale morning sky. I couldn't help but rethink last night's conversation and Edmund's accusation. He was sorry, I knew, but still it stung that he had made any kind of reference at all. I didn't know how I felt about not being a maid anymore. I felt safe with Caspian after our last tryst, but still, I had given something up that I could never get back again. And though I had lived so many years I couldn't count them properly, I was still young in body. Then there was the fact that Edmund had comforted me with the idea that Aslan had forgiven me, but still…shouldn't I have waited until I was married? I turned onto my side and curled up, staring into the trees.

Unbidden, I started to think about Caspian, wondering about his sleeping habits. I could guess a little, but I wanted to know the intimacy of his every day routine. Did he wake slowly or spring out of bed? Did he drop off immediately or did he take ages to fall asleep? I thought of climbing into bed with him and the two of us talking and laughing softly until we were finally tired. The image of his face burrowed in the pillows, vulnerable in sleep, made me warm with tenderness. I imagined waking him in the morning by brushing his hair off his face. I could even pictures his sleepy smile, and how he might wrap his arms around me and hold me close, mumbling, "Not yet, Lu. Five more minutes."

It wasn't desire I felt. It was something warmer, deeper, sweeter. If I could have magicked Caspian to me I would have, just to wrap my arms around him and lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

The next evening we reached the crest of the last hill, and Cair Paravel was before us, glowing in the sunset. I thought of what Peter said the first time he saw the castle, when Aslan showed it to him from the hill of the Stone Table. "It glowed like a pearl, and all the windows were bright gold—fiery, almost, from the setting sun. The sea was glittering behind it like diamonds." Peter was not usually so poetic, but Cair Paravel could inspire poetry in anyone.

Seeing Cair Paravel then, I turned to Edmund and smiled, the last clouds of animosity between us evaporating. "We're home," I said. He nodded certainly, smiling himself. No matter what world we were in, no place would be home so much as the castle by the sea.

I kicked my horse into a gallop and Edmund followed on my heels. I could feel the rushing speed, but it still wasn't fast enough. I leaned forward over my horse's neck, urging her onward.

At last the gates of the castle were a bowshot away and we were clattering over the new grand bridge that led to the castle island. I could hear the trumpet call announcing us. Ed was galloping beside me, and I challenged him to race with a look. I had to do something; I was nearly choking on the excitement which was bubbling in my throat. At the end of this ride, this last blazing stretch, was Caspian.

Edmund won the race, and as he dismounted he looked up at me with triumph. I jumped down to smack him with my riding gloves and instead found myself leaping into a pair of arms. I was pressed against a warm chest. I did not need to look up into his face. I knew this smell, this heartbeat. I grinned into the embroidered lion on his tunic as I wrapped my arms around his waist. "Caspian," I murmured.

He laughed richly; it vibrated and echoed with my ear pressed against his chest. "That sounds like music. Say my name again," he entreated.

I giggled because he was sentimental, because I was happy. "Caspian," I said, burying my face against his chest and inhaling more deeply the scent of him. "Caspian, Caspian."

He caught my laugh and it echoed in his chest. I burrowed against him, but he tipped my face upwards and kissed me there in the courtyard, no matter that we were in front of the grooms and the guards and my brother and cousin. I was not embarrassed. In fact, all these people fell away and all I knew was his kiss. His mouth was warm and his lips were soft. I was surprised that I remembered the taste of him so well.

We kissed for a long time, until a horse snorting made us remember ourselves. We pulled away, looking into each other's eyes and blushing. We laughed shyly. I looked past Caspian and saw Edmund watching us closely, with Eustace behind him. Edmund's expression was unreadable. I stepped away a little bit. "Hello, Eustace," I greeted him with a grin.

"Oh, hello. Didn't recognize you—you seemed to have something on your face just now," he replied with sarcastic good humor. I rolled my eyes and came forward to give him a smacking kiss on the cheek, which made him roll his eyes in return.

Then a thin, querulous voice interrupted our greetings. "Who's that lady?"

I turned to see a little boy with untidy black hair frowning at me from behind the skirts of a young Telmarine woman. She was far too young to be his mother.

Caspian took my hand and drew me forward. "This is Queen Lucy, and her brother King Edmund. They are the Kings and Queens of Old. Remember, I told you?"

The little boy stared sullenly at Caspian and said nothing. I remembered the same sour expression on Edmund when he was a boy. To me, Caspian murmured "This is my cousin—Miraz."

"Miraz!" I gasped in surprise.

Edmund came forward to stand next to me. "Caspian, do you mean to say—"

Little Miraz cut him off. "My _father's_ King of Narnia," he announced with a pout. He seemed to be addressing himself to me.

Edmund frowned right back. "No, he's not. Caspian here is."

"NO!" Miraz screamed, darting from behind the woman and hurling himself at Edmund, his fists flying like windmills.

Being a practiced warrior, Edmund was able to block the child with ease, catching his fists neatly. "Yes," he countered decisively as Miraz squirmed. "And you ought to know not to hit grownups. First of all because it's rude and cruel, and secondly because you will always be over-matched."

Eustace snorted. "Finally! Caspian's been far too soft with him."

I turned to Caspian and he shrugged, his cheeks red.

Edmund shook his head. Miraz was thrashing and grunting, but my brother's muscles did not even tighten. "Well, this ends now." He looked at the woman who came out with Miraz. "You are his nurse, I presume?" She nodded nervously, and Edmund continued. "Come help with your charge, then. We will resolve this matter inside."

As I watched the two of them subdue young Miraz, I wondered what made Edmund want to take charge of the situation. He had never been much for children, preferring to let Peter swing them up in the air or Susan fuss over them. So why this disagreeable boy? I picked up my skirts and followed behind. As we entered the castle, Caspian murmured softly at my side, "He's the only family I've got."

I turned to look at him, laying a hand on his chest. I opened my mouth, but what could I say, really? We weren't family. Not the way Eustace, Ed and I were. I gave him a little smile and kissed his lips softly. "Come on," I said, taking his hand. "Let's go sort this out."

The rest of the evening was sorting things out. Miraz was calmed and taken to bed. Edmund and I had a brief rest and a wash before we made our report on the new treaty with Archenland to the council. Trumpkin harrumphed and said "If they're so suspicious of us, what do we want their friendship for?" To which Trufflehunter replied "You forget, Trumpkin, but I remember—Archenland was long a valuable ally of Old Narnia." Caspian settled the matter by saying "Precisely, Trufflehunter. And this is the Narnia of Old once more." Then Caspian—with many interruptions from Eustace—told us about his adventures in the southern provinces and how he discovered the disloyal lord and his cousin.

When he heard this, Edmund leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. "I don't like this," he said. "You and Aslan made it clear when you were crowned six years ago that the Telmarines could live her in peace or be provided for elsewhere."

"Do you fear revolt?" Caspian asked, his hands curling tightly around the arms of his chair.

Edmund considered this and shook his head. "Not fear, no. But I'd watch for it. Perhaps take preventative measures."

Caspian's forehead wrinkled. "Such as?"

Edmund nodded to me, and I smiled. "Win the hearts of the people," I declared. "So that a revolt would never take hold."

Slowly, Caspian smiled.

"Far better than fear and intimidation, eh, Caspian?" Eustace said, putting his foot in it. Of course we all knew that was Caspian's first thought at Edmund's suggestion, but no one was going to say he thought like his despot uncle. Except Eustace, of course. Caspian lowered his eyes and said nothing.

It was not until after the welcome party, a merry supper with the court, that I had a moment to myself. After I changed, I dismissed the maids and brushed out my hair myself, reflecting on all that had happened since our return. Though my mind was whirling, the sound of the sea coming through the open windows calmed me. I smiled to myself to hear it and I had another delicious sensation of being _home_.

As I was brushing, I saw in the mirror an envelope on my pillow. I frowned, wondering at it, and got up to examine. It was unmarked and unsealed, and I turned it over, trying to figure out where it might have come from. I opened it to answer the mystery and found myself reading Anya's love letter to Edmund. I folded it up as soon as I could, but I had already seen enough of it, the sweet, sad, hopeful words she composed for him. There was none of the artifice of Susan's suitors here, not even a bit of the artful flirtation she used in the garden. This was a true love letter, honest and beautiful for that.

I bit my lip. For a moment, I was unsure what to do with the letter. I didn't want to rekindle my fight with Edmund. But I remembered I had given my word to Anya, so there was only one thing to do.

A few minutes later I was standing before Edmund's door in my dressing gown, holding the envelope in both my hands. I looked down at it and twisted my mouth. Should I knock? I thought about what might happen if I did: I pictured Edmund frowning and saying something cutting before he slammed the door in my face. However, it wasn't the prospect of Edmund's anger that stopped me in the end. I'd been faced with Edmund's anger enough times. I was no longer scared of him. Rather, it was the thought that if he knew where the letter had come from he would cast it aside without reading it, and all Anya's loving words would go to waste. She deserved to be heard at the very least. I slipped the note under the door and scurried away.

I didn't go back to my room. When I reached the corridor that led to it, I paused and shook my head, choosing instead to go straight on until I came to Caspian's room. I found myself picking my skirts up and hurrying, remembering the kiss we had shared earlier, that we hadn't been alone together.

I pushed the door open and slipped inside. He was standing on his balcony with the doors ajar, and I could see the wind ruffling his hair. I could see the broad, solid muscles in his back, and as the breeze wafted towards me, I swore I could smell him, not just the saltiness of the air but his own Caspian-smell. I gave a sigh of contentment, warmth and peace flooding through me.

He heard my sigh and turned, and when he saw me a smile spread over his face. "Lucy," he said warmly, stretching out his hands. I ran to him, clasping his hands. His warm palms closed around mine and he drew me closer, kissing my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks. The spring air was still chilly, but he wrapped me up in his arms and I wasn't cold. He tucked his head into my neck and I felt the warmth of his cheek against mine. I stroked his shoulders, and his heart started to speed up. There was so much to say, so much to talk over and catch up on, so many questions, but we didn't ask them. There were days, weeks stretching ahead of us for all of that. Instead, his mouth found mine and we kissed. He stroked the small of my back slowly and I buried my hands in his hair. At last we broke away, breathless.

"I missed you," I murmured, grazing his lips with a soft kiss.

He grinned, returning the kiss breathlessly. "You have no idea. Oh, Lucy." He pulled me close again. "There were so many times I wished you were here, so much I wanted to tell you…" His lips tickled my neck, and I sighed, feeling my knees go weak.

"Caspian," I murmured in his ear.

It was as though an electric current passed through both of us with that whisper. I remembered—my body remembered that night before the fire, the feel of his skin against mine. He could carry me to the bed and we could lie together. I could feel that he wanted to as our bodies pressed together, and oh, I wanted to too. I cupped his face and turned my head to kiss him, gasping as his hands slid over my waist, up, covering my breast. I cried out softly, but then I peeled his hand off me and stepped away, gripping it.

He looked at me, breathless and red cheeked, but he didn't utter a reproach. He waited.

I took a breath, trying to push away the image of what I wanted so badly for what I knew was right. "I want to wait," I announced. "I want to wait until…" I trailed off, biting my lip. I realized I had been thinking of marrying him all along, and I was only surprised by the fact that this didn't surprise me.

He gazed back at me, and his brow tensed. After a moment he nodded. "We'll wait," he agreed, and I knew that he had come to the same natural conclusion. He nodded, looking past me over the balcony. "Yes."

I crept closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "Yes," I whispered, smiling as I gazed past him to the waves crashing on the moonlit beach. We were agreed—we would spend the rest of our lives together.

* * *

_A/N: Another long one! But you all said you didn't mind, so here it is. I'm quite pleased--I think this story is finally picking up again. You all can thank Ben Barnes (for that among other things). Although that does present me with a conundrum--if you read the earlier chapters, Lucy describes Caspian as blond with greenish eyes, because in the books he's described as fair. Clearly this diverges with movie Caspian, but he's so good that I'm really not sure which description to go with. Thoughts? Comments on this chapter? Reviews make me work faster!  
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